Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
by Nightingale63
Summary: SPOILERS for season 4. Blaine gets two pieces of good advice, propelling him to go to New York, but only takes one of them. Mostly canon, at least to start with.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Spoilers for season 4 … I don't own Glee (or else Season 4 episode 4, might have started like … this!)**

Blaine banged his head against the steering wheel, frustrated that he again found himself frustrated… a circle he was growing to hate. Their last Skype had been like the one before it, began with great hopes that got dashed: Kurt was distracted, and seemed barely interested in what was going on with him, then chattered excitedly (also cutely, he had to admit) about his internship and all that was happening there, and then he got interrupted by Rachel and never quite got his focus back to Blaine. That was three days ago; they'd texted a bit. Not that Blaine was keeping score, he told himself, but his texts definitely outnumbered Kurt's, and even those somehow had the whiff of distraction clinging to them.

Doesn't make it right, he berated himself again. Nothing did. Yesterday, he'd responded to Eli's flirty messages and agreed to go to his house. _For what?_ As if they'd laid out ground rules or anything … but it was clear what Eli was interested in: he'd praised his eyes, his physique, and his voice (Eli had checked his performances with the Warblers and New Directions both, on Youtube) and acted smitten. Not just that; he'd seemed really interested in all the minutia of his life at McKinley, and was himself suffering through senior year, like him, anxious to get out of Ohio, and away from the homophobes and general crap of life here. Blaine thought Eli was a cute guy, but was also sweet and very attentive.

Why he was even here, parked outside the Lima Bean, he couldn't say; he felt homeless, with no Kurt to go to and be with on a Friday afternoon, other friends either moved away (how had he let this happen? He'd hung out mostly with people who'd moved on) or busy. Home? Not a place he wanted to be, more than he needed to. He couldn't recollect what had happened at school, going through it in robot mode, and no one seemed to notice. After practice, he'd gotten in his car, and somehow ended up here. And what comfort could Kurt offer now, after what he'd done?

He was interrupted from his reverie by a sharp knock on the driver's side window. Blaine startled, and looked out in a daze, to see Sebastian Smythe's face peering in at him.

"Hey, killer, open up," Sebastian had commanded, loudly.

He didn't know why he did (but why did he do anything, lately?) but he lowered the window.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, studying Blaine's stricken face, then frowning, as he crossed his arms in front of him. "Sorry to scare you, but you didn't respond when I tapped."

"What, what are you doing here?" Blaine tried for an air of normalcy.

"Really, Anderson? That's a question I should ask _you_. _I _came here for coffee, before heading out tonight. You're the one sitting by yourself banging your head against the steering wheel." Something stopped him from continuing to tease Blaine; he noted that the boy didn't look right. Not at all. He was paler than usual, his gelled hair in mild disarray, and his expression looked haunted.

" I … I was just going to go …"

Sebastian peered into the car. Seeing no evidence of a Lima Bean purchase he figured Blaine hadn't made it in yet. Judging by the look on his face, he didn't look like he was going to willingly tell him what was wrong.

"No."

Blaine looked at him, puzzled now, but not knowing what to say either.

"Get out of the car, come with me." Sebastian's tone was no-nonsense, and Blaine seemed to respond by instinct. The taller boy quirked his brow as he waited, and was soon joined by an uncertain looking Blaine. No argument, no explanation for why he looked so lost. "Let's get some coffee." The shorter boy nodded, and was gently propelled towards the door of the Lima Bean by a gentle push to his lower back.

Once at the counter, Sebastian ordered. "One grande French Roast, and a medium drip."

"You know my coffee order?" he whispered.

Sebastian smirked at him, but not unkindly. "We have had the pleasure of having coffee here before. Not like it's hard to remember." Turning to the barista, he added, "and two of those cinnamon almond scones."

Blaine whispered, "thank you."

Reflexive manners? Sebastian wondered. It hadn't even been clear who he was thanking. Sebastian paid, nodded to the counter staff, and led Blaine to a back table.

"All right, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian pressed him further. "Let's see. Nonsensical behavior (that'd be the head bashing in the parking lot, in clear view of everyone), dazed, sad expression, and no one here meeting you. So, where is he? Is this what this is about?" He was actually worried about Blaine now, and was fully intending to get him to talk.

Blaine looked forlornly out the window, then down at his feet. Finally, he responded. "He's in New York."

"Okay, that would explain why he stood you up for a coffee date." He stopped there, his attempt at levity falling flat. "Okay, that doesn't explain at all, you'll have to do better, Anderson."

"Kurt. He's been there for about a month."

Sebastian frowned again. The behavior he'd witnessed probably had more to it. "Look, Blaine, I want to help you. So cut the crap and tell me what else is going on. I swear I won't judge, but you look like you need to talk to someone." Why, he wondered, did Blaine suddenly tear up and look even more unhinged when he'd said that?

"I've done," he took in a sharp breath, and seemed to be trying to will away tears, "I've done a stupid, stupid thing – I've ruined everything! Kurt will never forgive me," he blurted out, then buried his face in his arms on the table. Sebastian watched in horror as his shoulders shook with silent sobs seconds later.

Alarmed, Sebastian got up, then put a hesitant hand to Blaine's back. Seeing no response, he sat in the chair beside him, pulled up closer, and spoke quietly now. "Shush, no, it can't be that bad. Talk to me, I guarantee you won't shock me with anything you might say. It's okay, I'm right here." He found himself patting the sad boy's back awkwardly, shushing and comforting him, his tone and even some of his words what he'd use to comfort a scared toddler.

Then Blaine surprised him, holding back nothing. He confessed his visit to Eli, his fears about losing Kurt before that had even happened (going into details of why he felt so abandoned), his certainty that he didn't deserve Kurt anyway, or probably even Eli; that Sebastian had been right, he was alone, no one to talk to now when he needed it desperately; he'd been like this all day, inches from falling apart at any moment, and on one had even noticed.

Sebastian had let him talk. Once he got going, he hadn't needed encouragement, but also didn't seem to feel any better. He'd had experiences like this at Dalton, of course. Distressed boys, away from home, sometimes with parents who barely cared anyway, overwhelmed for all the usual reasons (plus the stress of high expectations, a lack of females to confide in, or date) weren't that uncommon. Even Sebastian had gotten his share of distraught roommates and acquaintances who needed a sympathetic ear. He decided to put an end to it when Blaine started to get repetitive.

"Here. Blow your nose. Like at least five times, okay?" he said, passing tissues to the boy. "Your problem isn't as complicated as you think it is."

Blaine looked at him, mystified.

"You're in withdrawal. You miss Kurt, and now it's more than just emotional, it's physical too; your body is reminding you it has needs and desires, and it knows it's not getting what it wants, so it's turning your brain to mush. Not in a good way. Kurt may or may not be as inattentive as you say, but even if he weren't, that wouldn't solve your problem, bucko. You need to go to him. I don't know why you're here when you should just make it easy on yourself and go there."

"Didn't you hear what I said? What I did? He'll be so upset with me –"

"Yeah. About that. Doesn't need to know." He shook his head once, decisively, for emphasis.

"But I cheated on him!" Blaine's voice rose, dangerously close to sounding like he was going to lose it, all over again.

"You're an idiot!" Sebastian thundered at him, then looked around – no one had paid attention – lowered his head, and pinched the top his nose with two long fingers for a few moments. "Do _not_ tell him."

"But –"

"Will it help?"

"No," the sad answer came.

"Look, go ahead and tell him some time, but not today, or even right away. The important thing is, you left. You didn't really choose Eli, when it came down to it. You chose Kurt. You need him, and you need him in person."

"I'm supposed to go there in two weeks …"

"Not good enough. Go tonight. So what if it's just the weekend. Look, if you can't afford it, just pay me back later," he'd whipped out his tablet, and was already searching for flights.

Blaine's head started to clear. "No, I can pay. Sebastian, I can't believe it … thank you, so much. I really did need to talk to someone. You really think it'll be okay?"

He looked over his tablet, now considering which flight to book. "Yes," he lied. He had no idea, but he was certain that staying here wasn't going to fix anything. "Blaine, listen very carefully: you're going to go to him tonight; tell your parents whatever you need to. And you are going to keep this whatever it was to yourself. Remember, you chose Kurt. I am telling you, do not go unloading your misplaced guilt to him about this. Got it?"

"Yeah. Sebastian, thank you." His voice was closer to normal now, his breathing normal.

"For what?"

"For being there for me, even though you didn't plan to be. For yelling at me to listen to you. For sending me to him."

"It's all right. Just do as I said, Go get him, killer." He smiled with his usual smile, and mock punched his shoulder. "And for God's sake, _get some_."

Blaine snorted, surprised, then giggled a little. "You sound just like Santana."

"What can I say? Girl's got sense." Showing him the resulting confirmation number he added, "write this down. Pay me later. I want to talk to you after you get back." Motioning for his cel phone, he grabbed it when Blaine handed it to him, and entered his data.

Later that night at Scandals (Blaine didn't know it was his habit to go to the Lima Bean before, but Scandals had such crap coffee) Sebastian decided to call it an early night. The usual distractions and pleasures of the place didn't penetrate tonight, as he pondered the frankly weird episode he'd had with Blaine. He would indeed be interested in the outcome of this weekend, and wasn't sure anymore what outcome he really wanted most.

**A/N: So, there you have it – one version (mine of course) of a missing chapter – why did Blaine show up two weeks early, soon after his meetup with Eli.**

**Let me know if you'd like this to continue, or what your thoughts are; I'd love to hear from you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Don't own Glee, just like last time.**

He'd decided to fly back that Saturday morning, not long after Finn left. Wherever or however Finn had gone, Blaine was alone as he paid the taxi and found his way to the check-in counter. He felt utterly hollow; sleep deprived (already true before the trip began, and certainly not alleviated last night), numb from pain, directionless. Rachel was only barely more functional than he'd been this morning, but she'd taken charge, helping him make arrangements, and through her own grief managed to worry about him. Blaine was unaware of that, caught in an endless loop of his own grief and self-blame, and shut off from Kurt.

Was it even worth trying to sleep last night, he wondered. What a sham that had been; lying beside the person he loved more than anything in the world, both of them crying, neither of them comforted by the presence of the other, once Kurt had made it plain that he would not talk about it. After repeated, desperate pleas Blaine had given up, sobbed until his ribs hurt. At some point very far into the night they'd both drifted into troubled sleep.

Blaine awakened alone and cold in bed. He listened, heard the sound of someone stirring, and walked into the open space of the apartment. Finn, gone early this morning, as Rachel discovered later; he hadn't stayed to say goodbye. Kurt had left when Rachel came out to look for Finn, and Rachel didn't know when he'd return. She'd had the sad job of relaying Kurt's message, that he did not want to talk to Blaine at all, he "needed some space". Stricken, he'd pleaded for details, asked what he should do, and found that he somehow had more tears to shed. Her sad nod, then embrace didn't help: Kurt apparently would not return until he was gone.

Getting off the plane, back in Ohio, he still had no clear plan. He didn't know how many texts he'd sent Kurt, how many times he'd called, hoping that this time he would pick up, before boarding the plane. Back on the ground, his phone revealed the same blank slate: no new messages from Kurt, no texts. He headed out to his car, not noticing the drizzly rain or the fact that he hadn't eaten today, and it was now early afternoon. Almost there, and his phone alerted him to a call, from Rachel.

"Hello?"

"Blaine, you're back in Ohio, I guess, well right, of course you are, you're back on the ground with cell phone reception again..."

"Did he come back?" His voice sounded croaky, nearly a whisper.

"Kurt. Yes, Blaine, he did..."

"Please, please Rachel, can I talk to him -"

"I'm so sorry, Blaine... he won't, he's not even talking to me, really. But I wanted to call you, to make sure you were safe." Her voice sounded pressured; Blaine wasn't surprised. After all, she was dealing with her own problems.

"I'm here. Tell him … can you tell him I love him?" And damn, more tears, followed by a silent sob.

"I'll tell him. Be safe, Blaine Warbler. I'm so sorry." And now her voice was broken by tears as well. "Remember, I love you. Don't forget that," she whispered, clearly starting to turn into a mess.

Blaine stared at his phone in mild surprise. Rachel had been surprisingly strong this morning, and had told him while he was still there that she wanted him to be okay, that she loved him like a sister. He felt humbled, unworthy; I am the guy that just broke Kurt's heart, why would she even care? He managed to croak out, "Thanks. Gotta go." And he ended the call.

His car felt like a bit of a refuge; his own space, where he could cry, finally, with no one there to offer reassurances he didn't believe in. After a while, he didn't know how long, he turned it on and headed back to Lima. Where to go? Not like his parents really cared, but he was a day early, and he didn't want to face them or anyone else. He tried Wes, but it went straight to voicemail, so he was probably busy. So was Nick. He thought of calling Sam, but remembered that the number he'd assigned to him was the Hudmel's landline, since Sam still couldn't afford his own cell phone. He could not risk someone else there picking up, so Sam was out.

He found himself at the park, where he and Kurt had often gone walking. In the spring, the azalea garden was their favorite part. Right now it looked dark and gloomy, shaded by evergreen trees above, the azaleas all dark green foliage, getting ready to go dormant soon. He walked in a daze, concluding he had no one to talk to, nowhere to go. Disaster didn't begin to cover how awful this trip had ended up.

He opened his phone once more. Sebastian had paid for the airfare when he'd booked it, and told him to catch him later, when he got back. He sent a brief message. **Back in Lima. Let me know how you'd like me to get the ticket money to you. Thanks for trying to help. **

* * *

It was a relatively quiet afternoon at Dalton, and Sebastian idly returned the lacrosse ball to his teammate. Matt had asked if he wanted to get some fresh air, practice some lacrosse passes, and then head back to studying. He'd obliged; the weather wasn't perfect, but he welcomed the distraction from the paper he was writing. He held his free arm up to signal Matt to hold on, and fished his phone out of his pocket as it chimed, alerting him to a text.

"Fuck," he spat out softly, reading the message. He hit Call and waited for Blaine to pick up.

"Sebastian?"

"You're back in Ohio. What the hell? Are you all right?" He was already worried, Blaine's voice sounded shaky when he picked up.

"No." Sebastian waited for more. "Um, I called to ask how to pay you back."

Shit. The kid sounds totally broken. And he's avoiding the obvious. "Whatever, we can figure that out later. Where are you?"

Blaine looked around him, tried to steady his breathing. "I'm home. Look, I just can't talk now … I just want to sleep."

Sebastian looked at the phone in his hand, shook his head. "All right, killer. Meet me tomorrow at the Lima Bean, say two PM?" Maybe he really was too tired to talk; he sounded like a mess, and it had to have gone badly, for him to be home now instead of Sunday night.

"Uh, sure. Thanks. See you then." And Blaine hung up. He hadn't wanted to admit that he was wandering around this damn park aimlessly. Maybe sleep was a good idea, maybe at home it could even happen, so he headed back there.

* * *

Blaine was relieved that his parents were out. Sure, they'd notice his car at first, then himself, but he was glad to get to his room and crash in his bed. His head was pounding, even worse than that time he'd gotten drunk at Rachel's party and had a hangover the next day. Memories of Kurt's kindness, even when (he'd learned later, when they were together) his heart was aching, seeing him moon over the girl, and nurturing him through the hangover, just brought fresh tears, followed soon after by queasiness. He'd tried again, texting, leaving another message, but Kurt was still blocking him out. He fell into a troubled sleep soon after, his body grabbing what his mind didn't freely give.

* * *

"He cheated on me, Rachel! Why the hell do you keep asking if I'm going to call him back?" Kurt yelled, then instantly regretted it, as his roommate dissolved into fresh tears.

"K-Kurt – he was so b-broken, you didn't see him! You just left me to _deal_ with him, you didn't even give him a chance to talk to you!" She hated that she was crying again, but she was also more than a little angry with Kurt just now. Anger and tears went together for her, unfortunately. Her emotions were a whirlwind anyway, but at least, focusing on Blaine, that situation seemed simpler.

"I did do that. Sorry, Rach." His tone begged forgiveness. "But, I just can't. I mean, you talked to him, he made it back."

"You don't really think that helps him, do you?" She shot back, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. "Who's he going to talk to? His best friend? Oh –_ that would be you _-"

"Stop! He fucking cheated on me, what did he expect me to say? I'm not the one who -"

"You idiot." Rachel cut him off. "You really think he came here, two weeks early, bearing flowers, singing to you, so he could tell you that and leave?"

"I don't know what was in his head!" Switching to a less strident tone, he tried to win his friend back to his side of this. "I'm sorry, Rach. I shouldn't have yelled at you; you've got your own troubles. Stupid Finn, disappeared again, and I'm not really helping you here. I'm no good at this." He felt tears start to threaten, yet again. "Can we not talk about them, for now? I just can't."

Rachel sniffled, already collecting herself. "I'll grab the Ben and Jerry's, you cue up The Notebook."

* * *

Sunday morning passed in a leaden state for Blaine. His parents had appeared to accept his story of sudden illness; not hard to believe, looking at his pale, clammy form in the bed, hearing him unable to hold down lunch. His mother had reminded him to drink some Powerade, and he'd deflected her efforts to get him to talk, citing illness and an aching head. His father hadn't said much, but Blaine had heard him as he talked to his mother; his tone of disapproval, always at the ready whenever his boyfriend came up, surfaced, as he guessed that the damn fucking gay bastard in New York was more responsible for his son's state than a virus. He hadn't found either one comforting; his mother, never all that talented at nurturing, seemed concerned over his physical state but had backed down way too easily when Blaine had deflected questions about the trip. But he couldn't share his father's hatred of Kurt: he would have given anything to have Kurt respond to him in some way, and he ached to talk with him.

His phone chimed at 2:10, and he snatched it out of desperate habit. The message was from Sebastian. **Where are you?**

Damn. He foggily remembered promising to meet at the Lima Bean. He'd totally forgotten. Automatically, he typed back: **Sorry, I'm sick. Maybe I can mail you the money back.**

**No need. I'm coming over. **Blaine stared at the phone in shock. He knew he looked awful, probably smelled it too. He tried calling, but Sebastian didn't pick up. Damn. He got up to clean up, was instantly dizzy, sat down for a moment, then got back up, slower this time, and took a fast shower. He changed into some sweats and an old Dalton hoodie, and wondered how he'd gotten his address. Didn't matter; he didn't doubt that he'd show up.

**A/N: Will update soon, I promise. If you want to know who is endgame, PM me and I'll be happy to get back to you. That, or any other feedback/comments – I'm always glad to know your thoughts.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own Glee, or any songs etc that you might see here.**

"Hello?"

Sebastian greeted the woman with his most charming (yet understated) smile, as she stood with the door partly open, peering at him. "Hello, ma'am. My name is Sebastian Smythe, I'm a school friend of Blaine's, and I was just stopping by to say hello since he canceled a study group session." She smiled a tight little smile, and opened the door wide.

"Of course. Nice to meet you, Sebastian. I'll let Blaine know you're here." He watched her retreating form, and smirked his more usual smirk, content that she'd believed his story. He suspected – no, he knew – that if she knew he was here as an unwilling charter member of the Blaine's-broken-heart-support group the reception would be less welcoming. She reappeared right away.

"Just up the stairs, first door on your right. He told me you know he's not feeling well."

"Yes. Thank you." And with that he followed her directions, and found Blaine sitting on his desk chair, skin much paler than usual, damp curls betraying a hasty shower, and he was wearing black framed clunky Wayfarer glasses. Damn! He thought.

"One medium drip for you. And a cranberry scone." Blaine was in shock, not believing the sight in front of him: Sebastian, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, coffees and scones in hand, wearing a very toned-down outfit. Even his father would guess that his visitor was straight. Maybe that was the point? Blaine's stomach flip flopped, but the coffee smelled so damn good.

"Thanks. I totally forgot -"

Sebastian waved away his attempted apology. "Forget it, bucko. You're a mess. Though I do appreciate it that you showered, I must say." He grinned evilly. "Wouldn't want to add the literal stink of heartbreak to the figurative, now would we?"

"Bastard." Blaine smiled a tiny bit, but Sebastian saw that it didn't reach the rest of his face. He sipped his coffee appreciatively. After a few sips, the taller boy spoke.

"Here, you need to eat something. You don't look good, killer. Was my advice really that bad?" He tried for a light tone, and watched in dismay as Blaine instantly started to crumble in front of him.

"He – he won't talk to me. I … I think maybe he's broken up with me, but I couldn't even get that straight from him!" Crying openly now, Blaine closed his eyes, sobbed, and went on. "After I told him, he wouldn't listen to anything I said -"

"Blaine. You didn't. Well, no, clearly, you did. Wanna talk about it?" He kind of wished Blaine would say no...

He didn't expect an armful of drippy, sad Blaine, but that's what he got, as the boy launched himself at him, burying his face in the taller boy's chest and now sobbing harder. He looked down at him, at a loss as to what to do, then settled for awkwardly encircling him, patting him on the back gently, and just letting him cry. After Blaine's breathing started to return to normal, he murmured to him, "come on, let's sit down," and guided him over to the bed, sitting down beside him.

"Just tell me. Get it out." He softly commanded.

"There's not much to tell you … it was fine at first, better than fine, he was so so happy to see me, and we went to this karaoke bar the NYADA kids all go to, and I decided to sing for him," and then Blaine lost it again, this time burying his face in his hands, sobbing soundlessly. Sebastian looked on, alarmed. How was it that this was somehow even worse than what he'd gone through with him just minutes ago. Blaine's body language was now showing a boy withdrawn, no longer messily seeking comfort, and he knew that once again, he didn't really want to know, but the other boy had a stronger need to tell someone. He reached one arm gingerly around Blaine's shoulders, and gave a gentle squeeze. He found the box of tissues on the nightstand, and put it on the boy's lap.

"All right. Breathe. No, I mean it, take some nice slow breaths. Just like that. Good. Use these," he gestured to the box. "As fun as this is, I'm going to tell you to cut to the chase right now. Get it over with, so I can tell you just how much of a moron you are for not following my advice. Now." He couldn't help but smile a bit, which was lost on Blaine, who still hadn't looked up, but he had responded to his tone of command, doing exactly what he'd been told. Good to know, his voice in his head sounded as sarcastic as people accused him of being.

"I … I w-wanted to sing Teenage Dream for him, since that's that first song I ever sang to him, and it was kind of our song. It started out okay, but … but then it hit me. Here I was, this, this high school sweetheart, singing to him at this college hangout. And it hit me, it was too literal … like I was this figment of a dream from high school," and then he broke down again, crying and sobbing, but this time accepting Sebastian's hug, then clinging to him, feeling like he could never stop, or properly breathe again.

"Go on." His voice was soft but commanding.

"Kurt noticed that something was wrong. And then the words reminded me of why I went to Eli, and that I'd let another guy, you 'get his hands on me' and all that, and ..." his breath hitched, but he managed to continue, "and I just kept going, but it was too much, thinking maybe he wouldn't want me again, feeling out of place there in New York, and so so stupid for … for cheating on him -"

God, Sebastian thought. Could Blaine have set himself up for pain any more effectively? That song, really, Blaine? He marveled at the boy's capacity for self-punishment. It wouldn't be hard to guess what happened, but knowing part of him would regret it, he ordered him again. "Just finish it. You need to."

"We went for a walk … Rachel and Finn came, but then we separated a bit. Kurt could see that something was wrong. I tried to... to just tell him I was feeling emotional, but he didn't buy it. I decided to tell him about Eli then, and that I chose him instead, but, but I never got that far." Voice dropping to a whisper, he somehow managed to continue. "Once he heard that I'd gone to someone else, that was it, he wouldn't listen to the rest of it. He wouldn't let me apologize, or listen when … when I told him I loved him, and that that was why I was there … What have I done?"

So, that was it, Sebastian thought. Stupid hobbit; I knew Kurt wouldn't be able to handle it, but let's hope this idiot never plays poker or he'll be broke faster than you can say what happened to my trust fund? He fumed, not having seen that Blaine would do this. He regarded the broken boy beside him, reflecting that he really didn't know him all that well. That, and he had ugly history of his own, enough that he should have questioned his own judgment before trying to dispense advice.

"So, let me guess. You can just nod. He shut you off, and he made you leave without saying goodbye or even hearing the whole story."

Blaine nodded, miserably.

"And he won't answer your texts or calls." Another nod, a few more tears.

"Come here." His voice was soft, crooning, and Blaine didn't need any encouragement to bury himself in his arms and cry some more. Since when did I become an Agony Auntie? He mused, but found no pleasure in the humor. He didn't know how long he held him, but he could tell by his breathing as it slowed down that the boy was exhausted, and that maybe now he'd be able to sleep. Easing him onto his pillow, he remained beside him, keeping a hand on his back, and speaking soft words now and then. Blaine started to relax, and his eyes fluttered closed.

I'm here in Blaine's bed; who would have thought it would be like this? Sebastian laughed at himself bitterly. As Blaine drifted off to sleep, he gave one last nudge to his shoulders, then leaned over and gently kissed his forehead. "Sleep well, dear prince."

* * *

Blaine woke up hours later, and by the look of the sky outside, it was probably after six. He wasn't surprised Sebastian was gone, but the coffee on his nightstand, forgotten and cold, provided proof that it had really happened. He stretched, feeling achy all over, but also aware that he was hungry and thirsty. And that he was still in hell; his phone showed missed calls, texts from friends, but nothing at all from Kurt. And he had no energy for any of the others right now. Except one. He composed a quick message, and sent it off. **Thank you so much. You were right, I needed to talk to someone.**

He got up, noted with no surprise that his head was pounding again, and went to use the bathroom. His phone was humming when he returned to his room. **It's OK. Now go eat and drink something. Talk to me anytime. SS.**

* * *

"You're doing it again." Her voice was accusatory.

"Rachel, just because we live together and I can't get away from you -"

"Stop deflecting, Kurt. Why are you doing this? You keep checking to see if he's left you yet another message, but you won't send one back. I'm not sure who you're trying to torture more." Rachel knew that she sounded dramatic, but damn it! This situation called for it.

"What a pair we are. Finn won't answer your messages, and I can't answer his."

"Oh no, you don't get to do that!" her voice was headed towards shrieking range.

"Do what?"

"You don't get to lump us together like that. I _want_ to talk to Finn, I _need_ to. And _he_ wants to talk to _you_, but you won't let him – it's not the same at all! And you act like you're fine with that, and you know you're not, and you prove it every time you check to see if he's still trying!" She'd ended loudly, enough that if their neighbors were home, they heard it.

Her accusation broke him, yet again. He spoke through fresh tears, surprised that he still could cry after so many hours of tears. "What do I say, Rachel? I can't forgive him – he cheated on me! After, after he'd promised forever, and I thought we had a future! I've only been here a month!"

She could see it; he was so hurt, too unready to forgive, not trusting himself. Was he afraid he'd let Blaine off too easy? She thought he'd already suffered plenty; she'd seen the wreck Blaine had been yesterday morning, and Kurt hadn't. She knew he seemed stuck on the idea that Blaine had been with another guy, but she figured it was too soon to point out that she and Finn both had gone to other people in their on-again, off-again courtship, before they'd finally acknowledged that no one else had really mattered, all that time. Sure, she'd hated the idea of him with other women, but it was something you could get over. Except that that was precisely where Kurt was stuck, she could see it. Reaching over to hold him (he was sitting so this was easier; he wasn't as tall as Finn but he was still lots taller than she was) she shook her head and folded him into her arms.

"I know, I know, baby. It hurts too much right now." Planting a kiss on his head, and stroking his arm reassuringly, she added, "but when you're ready, you've got to listen to him."

Kurt gulped, and hiccuped. "I just can't, Rach. Not right now. I know he's sorry, but I just don't understand it."

She tried to remember the first time she'd been in this situation with Finn, and sighed. Poor baby, he doesn't see that holding back is going to just make the pain last longer. Part of her was mad at Blaine, but she could also see partly what he hadn't said: that he'd felt abandoned, as Kurt was swept up in his new life, and had acted stupidly, but desperately. But he'd also seen that it was a mistake, right away. She knew he wouldn't hear it even if she tried to share this wisdom borne of painful experience. Not today anyway, "I know, babe. I know."

* * *

Blaine made himself go to school on Monday. He felt numb, but also dreaded what the Glee kids would say to him. He felt like crap, but reasoned that he deserved to feel that way. He sang along to his ipod, docked in its slot in his car, as he drove to school:

_ After all that we've been through, I will make it up to you_

_ I promise to. And after all has been said and done_

_ You're just a part of me I can't let go..._

He had no idea how long it would be before Kurt would acknowledge him, but he wouldn't give up. Pulling into his parking space, he reached for his phone. This time, not to send another message (he'd already done that before leaving the house) but to send flowers. He chose a bouquet that was a dead ringer for the yellow and red roses one Kurt had given him here at McKinley, and knew Kurt would remember. He gulped, facing the building, not feeling prepared for what today would bring, but not feeling like he was deserving of sympathy either.

**A/N: The song is a snippet from Chicago's Hard to Say I'm Sorry. Thank you to all of you who encouraged me to continue with this; without your feedback I think it would have stayed headcanon. I'd love to hear more from you, and somehow, we'll all survive the damned hiatus. Thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, at least my hiatus isn't as long as the show's... Still don't own Glee, or any songs you might recognize, etc.**

Monday morning had been weird, but it had enough flashes of normalcy that Blaine played along with the world (which was curiously unaffected by the bomb that had gone off in his life). Classes had been pretty normal at first, until his math class with Artie. Artie hadn't paid any more (or less) attention to him than any of the other, casual acquaintances he'd made during his time at McKinley. Artie had simply given a typical wave and smile, and turned to the girl beside him, who giggled at whatever he'd just said. When class was over, they'd left together.

Blaine found Brittany in the cafeteria, sitting at their usual table. How odd that she was his usual lunch mate, he pondered again. But Britt looked distracted and ill.

"Britt?"

"Oh. Hello, Blaine Warbler." She'd tried to smile her usual smile at him, but it just didn't work. He thought her attempted smile looked even sadder than her distracted look of a moment before.

"No lunch? Want me to grab you something?" Perhaps she's forgotten it at home again, he reasoned.

"No. Can't eat; Lord Tubbington told me that eating with a broken heart is a waste of time. Turns out he's right – I have thrown up a lot since ..." and her voice trailed off as she glanced to the distance.

"Do you want to talk, Britt?" For once, he thought a comment in connection with her cat made at least partial sense.

"Santana broke up with me. And I'm confused, because she's still talking to me and texts me, but she didn't want us both tied down. I told her I understand, but … I don't."

Blaine sighed. Britt somehow held it together, telling him this, but her eyes looked pink, like tears were threatening to return any time. Nothing she said indicated that she knew how well he'd be able to relate, to the heartbreak part at least. Their lunch plans? Another unlikely thing they had in common; his appetite was shot right now too.

"Britt, how about I get us both some juice at least?" he said, getting up to join the line.

She smiled a weak smile at him. "You're my favorite dolphin in the world. Does juice cure how this feels?"

He decided to deflect. "Orange, apple, or cranberry?"

"Orange. It doesn't rhyme with anything." Seeing the mystified expression on Blaine's face, she elaborated, "so that makes it kind of alone. Like me."

He nodded, got their juices and paid for them, stopping for straws on the way back to the table. Some of what Britt said, he thought, made sense if you didn't get stuck on literal interpretations. Maybe she has the soul of a poet, maybe even a talent for that. Walking to their table, he wondered if a teenage Emily Dickinson would've seemed strange.

Accepting her juice, she commented, "Good choice. You got apple." He nodded, opening his up. "Apples keep the doctor away, so maybe apple juice does too."

The rest of the lunch period passed in silence. Britt doodled in her empty-looking science notebook, and Blaine tried (unsuccessfully) to read The Iliad. The bell rang, and Britt got up first, and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Blaine Warbler, thank you for the juice. Maybe some time we'll both be able to eat lunch again." Then she gathered her things and walked away.

Blaine was stunned. Did she know? Did everyone know? If they did, what did they know? Britt had been sad, but Blaine did know that Santana had broken up with her (though their breakup, like their relationship, seemed a little hard to define). He shrugged, and trudged off to his next class, hoping that they'd cover anything else about the Trojan War than the love story part.

* * *

Glee club, at the end of the day, confirmed his suspicions, when Finn had asked him why he did it? Everyone, including Finn, had been polite with him. It had been odd; they hadn't offered scorn or solace, like it had never happened at all. Then came the news that Mr. Schue would be going to Washington for a few months, and that Finn would be helping out by working with the club in his absence (though he'd still be there for competitions, and would be their official teacher). Blaine had thanked God for Brad, their ever-patient piano player, and the band, who continued to be what they always were: reliable and up for anything. But still? Finn seemed willing to throw himself into leading them, and to work with Artie on doing the musical, Grease.

"Wait up, dude." Blaine turned around. He'd been stashing his music in his messenger bag, preparing to go home when he'd heard Finn's voice.

He didn't know what to say. Finn knew how the weekend had gone down; his had been awful too. Kurt has his brother (sort of); would he be angry at him too? He reasoned that talking with Finn for as long as he wanted to talk would be just fine. Going home didn't seem too appealing anyway.

"Hey, Finn. Um... good job, I mean, with Glee club today. Mr. Schue seems confident that you can do it."

Finn chuckled. "Well, dude, except for the choreography part. I'm hoping Britt can help with that some more, but I didn't get to talk to her about that yet." Finn squinted, looking down at Blaine. "Dude, you okay?"

"No. Not really. Not at all." Blaine's voice broke. "He won't return my texts or voicemails, or anything. I don't know if he even looks at them. I want so much to tell him I'm sorry, that I knew right away I'd made a mistake, that that was why I needed to see him, but nothing … nothing is working." Damn. He'd wanted to get through school without crying, and tried to force back tears, which made his throat ache somehow.

"C'mere." Finn stepped forward, and held the shorter boy in a tight hug. "Dude, no matter what, you can talk to me." Stepping away and looking at Blaine's teary eyes, he added gently, "I know you didn't mean to hurt him so bad, but give it time. He's going to have to talk to you eventually."

"I wish I knew that. Thanks. For not hating me."

"Blaine, I don't. I don't think he does either. But dude, that's how Kurt is, you know? If he's upset, he closes off until he's ready to deal. It sucks, but I've even seen him freeze Burt out before. Try to remember that."

"Is he all right?" Blaine's voice was almost a whisper, as if he didn't trust it.

Finn looked away, to outside the choir room, then looked back at the boy in front of him. He sighed, then decided he could tell him at least a bit. "Um, I'm not supposed to talk to you about him. You know how he is, he tried to make everyone promise. But he's really upset. Rachel's worried about him, but she's there for him. He went to work today. I … I'm not supposed to tell you any of this, okay?"

He nodded, grateful for what he could get. Hearing Finn speak of Rachel reminded him that he wasn't the only one in pain. "Finn, I'm so stupid. Are you okay? I didn't even ask you. I feel so bad."

Finn squinched his face and paused before answering. "We've been apart longer, so it's a little different. I mean, I didn't expect things to go the way they did in New York, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I still love her," his voice hitched a little here, "but I want what's best for her. I came home; I couldn't just stay there. We've talked, a tiny bit. She yelled at me a lot for not talking all that time I was away, and made me promise that, no matter what, I wouldn't do that to her again. You know how she gets." He couldn't help but smile a little, how his tiny (ex) girlfriend could be a ball of fury.

"Will you tell Kurt I love him?" Blaine's expression was so broken.

"Of course, dude. I will. And hey?" Blaine looked at him, as Finn seemed to want his attention. "In my own way, I do too. I got your back."

Blaine managed a watery smile. "Thanks. Dude." And he playfully fist-bumped with Finn. It meant a lot that he'd said that, but Blaine didn't feel like he could take any more of this. "I've gotta go home. Bye. See you tomorrow in Glee?"

"Tomorrow, dude." Finn watched him walk away, and shook his head. He hated that Kurt was being so stubborn, but he suspected that if he pressured him he'd just be even more so. He'd had a taste of the whole cheating thing, and he knew it really stunk. He also thought he knew that it was something a couple could get over, but he could tell, looking at Blaine, that the boy felt hopeless. Damn.

* * *

Friday evening finally came. Blaine had dragged himself through his routine, and after that first day back at school, had managed to throw himself into his studies. Glee club was still kind of weird; apart from talking to Finn about it, no one commented either way. Well, no one but Britt. They'd had a strange talk that day at lunch (but then, any lunch talk with Britt risked being odd, that was just Britt).

He remembered what she'd let slip. "You have to start eating, you know. Lord Tubbington told me to start eating too, and that if you don't eat you can die from a broken heart."

"What do you mean, Britt?" He'd asked. Not that asking her for clarifications usually helped that much, but sometimes it did. Worth a try.

"I know you're sad that your dolphin is mad at you. But I'm sure it won't last forever. And he'd be mad at me if he knew I let you starve."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Uh, he did call to ask if I was okay. He knew about me and Santana." She studied her sneakers glumly for a minute. "He asked he if I was remembering to eat. I told him you made sure I at least had some juice at lunchtime. Then he asked me if either one of us was eating. I told him my mom makes sure I eat dinner, and Lord Tubbington's got breakfast covered. He likes to make sure I have eggs and sausages so he can get the extra sausages. He likes them with syrup on them," she added.

"And -" He was hoping if he didn't say too much maybe she'd tell him more.

"He was upset when I told him you weren't eating at lunchtime either. He said to make sure you eat. Oh... I wasn't supposed to tell you that that was him telling me to tell you to eat. Oops."

"It's okay. I'm sure he won't get mad at you if we both have something. How 'bout some tots?"

She'd grinned. "Okay. I heard that if you have with with ketchup, it's like having a vegetable serving."

At the end of Glee Finn and Artie had approached him. "Blaine, what are you singing for your audition?" Artie asked, poised to write on his clipboard.

"I really hadn't thought about it. I … I don't think I want to be in it. And some of our new guys are good, maybe give them a shot, you know."

"We need you, dude. We were thinking maybe Danny -"

Blaine cut him off. "No. Sorry, but I just can't get into doing a love story right now. Just no."

Artie looked at him shrewdly. "I thought you might say that. I have the perfect part for you," he went on, over Blaine's look of exasperation, "Teen angel. Not too big, and not a dreamy duet; you're just giving advice to a girl to go back to high school. You've got the hair and your voice is perfect for it."

Blaine shook his head, but he knew Artie could be determined. "Fine. I'll just audition with 'Beauty School Dropout' and make it easy."

"Dude! I knew we could count on you. Be there to audition Monday, all right?"

"I'll be there." He sighed. Here, there, classes. One more task to do. At least he could avoid disappointing them, fairly simply at that.

* * *

Blaine's phone chimed and he reached for it, to see the message from Sebastian. **Coffee, Lima Bean, 7? Don't say no. SS**. He quickly texted back. **I'll be there. Thanks**.

As usual, Sebastian was there first, already at a table, two coffees in front of him. Who'd have guessed he would be so punctual all the time? Or that he'd be so persistent? Blaine wondered, sliding into his seat.

"So, killer. Ready to leak the set list for Sectionals?" He chuckled, before adding, "just kidding. The Warblers have got this sewn up, and we're not even up against you, so I don't care." He looked at Blaine. The boy looked thinner, he thought, like someone who'd just gotten over a nasty case of the flu. He was pale as he reached for his coffee eagerly.

"Thanks for the coffee. So, what brings you to Lima?"

"The scintillating conversation … all right, maybe not that. Sorry, killer, but your conversational skills haven't been up to par. I keep hoping though." He grinned a smirky grin. "I'm just on my way to Scandals. Wanna come?" His eyes danced with mischief.

Blaine snorted. "Sorry, no. Not really up for that right now."

Sebastian looked at him with concern, all sarcasm now gone from his voice and demeanor. "Nothing? No improvement at all?"

Blaine studied his cup, sighing in resignation. "No. I don't know what to do."

"Killer, you don't look good. This can't go on forever. You've got to get on with life."

Blaine looked at him forlornly. "I just can't. I'm a little bit optimistic every day, and I still text him, and I've sent him flowers, but … nothing. I feel like I'm swimming in molasses, just trying to get through every day. The nights are worse."

"That's it. You're coming with me." He flipped out this phone, composed and sent a text at lightening speed, and looked back at Blaine.

"Sebastian, I ah, already told you I don't want to go to Scandals. Thanks anyway."

"Change of plans. We're not going to Scandals. We're going to Dalton. You're going with me to a Warblers' movie night. I'll follow you home, you need to get your sleeping bag and pajamas."

"Wha – what?"

"You heard me. While I'm hurt," and he feigned hurt sarcastically, pulling his face into a mask of tragedy, "that you rejected my initial offer, I think I won't take no for an answer to my second choice. If you're not going to sleep anyway, you may as well hang out with the guys."

"Do they even want me there?" He really did wonder if he was welcome.

"Yes. End of discussion."

"What movie?"

Sebastian smiled, tasting victory. "Harry Potter movie marathon."

Blaine smiled, in spite of himself. Maybe Sebastian was right; maybe this was what he needed. "You're on."

The tall boy smiled. Mischief managed. Nick and Jeff had been happy to accept his suggestion, knowing Blaine's weakness for all things Potter. The Warblers who knew him from before the transfer would all welcome him, and the rest agreed that "once a Warbler, always a Warbler", so would not object. Not to mention that Nick had taken over the gavel once Wes graduated, and the easy-going boy had morphed into Wes a bit, ruling the singers with a kindly but firm hand. Blaine followed him out to their cars, and impulsively hugged Sebastian before getting into his own. He didn't notice anyone he knew in the Lima Bean, but their interaction hadn't gone unseen.

* * *

Sebastian had judged him too tired-looking to drive, so had insisted on going up in one car. Blaine's mother was home, and encouraged her son, agreeing with the ever-smooth Sebastian that he needed to get out with his friends more.

The movies had been a big hit to start out with. The Warblers swarmed around him, and he felt a little like his old self as they welcomed him, and settled down to watch his favorite movies. After a brief discussion of what order to watch them in, they'd gone with strict numerical order, also Blaine's preference. There was lots of buttered popcorn, pizza, cookies, soda, all the things that made a Warblers' movie night perfect.

Blaine didn't notice the worried conversation Nick and Jeff had with Sebastian, or the concerned looks the old Warblers (people he knew before his transfer) threw his way when he wasn't looking. He ate the most he'd eaten in a long time, and let the happy conversation of the boys around him wash over him, not needing to contribute much, other than laughing at the appropriate times. But he was exhausted. Sleep took over for him before the first movie was even done, and his friends slipped a pillow under his head, and his sleeping bag over his body, and continued the marathon.

Halfway through the third movie, when at least half the boys were sleeping, Nick and Jeff looked up from cuddling to see that Blaine was starting to thrash around in his sleep. "Do you think we should just wake him up? He looked so damned tired," Nick asked his boyfriend.

Before they could decide, Blaine started to moan, then sound like he was trying to yell for help in his sleep. "Blaine! Blaine! Wake up, it's all right, you're here with us!" Nick and Jeff shook him, trying to get him to look at them. Now all the Warblers were awake, looking on. Sebastian had gotten up to brush his teeth, and joined them.

"Snap out of it, you're safe. It's me, Sebastian. Look at me."

Blaine shook himself out of his nightmare, and clutched Sebastian, who responded by holding him in his arms, murmuring over and over, "it's going to be all right, you're safe here. We're here for you." Blaine cried, not caring at that moment what anyone thought, and glad not to be alone.

* * *

Kurt opened the text message, and frowned, before opening the attachment that went with it.

**A/N: Dear reviewers, thank you so much for your kind feedback and encouragement. I've gotten back to all of you who wanted to know who is endgame, but that offer still stands, for any new readers joining us (so, dear readers, you can choose to be spoiled on the ending, at least that aspect of it, or not, as you like). Hope you like this, and I'd love to hear from you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger! Still don't own Glee, etc etc etc. Or it wouldn't be on hiatus, for starters!**

Kurt looked at the image in shock. The quality wasn't good, but that was clearly Blaine, hugging Sebastian in the Lima Bean parking lot. Sebastian was smiling, and Blaine's face was blocked from view. It looked like a 'guy hug', like something Finn might do, but that didn't help. Kurt fought back a sob that wanted to force its way out, closed his phone down, and stared out the window. Rachel had the poor timing to come home just then.

"Hey, Kurt. Did you have dinner yet?"

"I dunno, Rachel. It's ten o'clock. What do you think," he shot back sourly.

She furrowed her brows and looked at him with worry. "Uh, I'd say from that tone maybe not. Let me ask again -"

"God! Rachel, I'm not a child." She stared at him pointedly, and he just knew she was going to worm an answer out of him. "No. I wasn't hungry."

Her face softened. "Thought so. I brought home some lasagne for you – that place, Leone's, may be the last Italian restaurant in Brooklyn not to go all trendy and give stupid small portions. Here, have it." She opened the cover, and he sniffed. There was no point in refusing; it smelled fantastic.

Rachel bustled into their tiny kitchen space, producing utensils and a real plate, and setting it up for Kurt on the table by the couch. "You still on for next weekend?"

Why. Why did she have to go there, when he was just starting to get so pleasantly distracted by the food, he wondered. "No. I think I'm gonna bail."

"You can't! We got tickets and everything. Kurt, I _need_ you there with 've been working like crazy – you deserve this -"

"Rachel." She stopped to look at him, at how sad his face looked as he flipped his phone on, searched for something, and passed it to her.

"What is this?"

"What does it look like? I can't go; he's moving on ..."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel." Her tone was commanding (and loud). "I _need_ you for this. Your dad would be crushed if you canceled," (Kurt threw her a bitch glare for the obvious manipulation she used there), "Finn and Carole and all the New Directions miss you too" she paused for breath, "and what the hell do you mean, 'he's moving on'? What about all the texts and messages and flowers, not to mention how he tries _so_ hard to get any intel he can get from me or Finn or anyone! You promised – you said you wanted to talk to him in person!"

"That was before Sugar saw him and snapped this."

"But what does that even mean? That looks like a bro hug to me."

"With _Sebastian_. Who was trying to lure him away back when we were still together."

"You could still be wrong, you know." She looked at him calculatingly. "Call him on it. Better yet, call one of your Warbler friends."

He considered it. "I guess it couldn't hurt. Though I'm not sure it solves anything."

She reached over and hugged him lightly. "Just give it a try. Tonight?"

"Pushy much?"

"Avoiding the question much?" she repeated back, mocking him gently.

"Can we mock What Not to Wear first, while I eat this – it's really good, by the way."

"All right. But I'm holding you to it. Be right back, after I change." She walked away as he picked up the remote.

The hour passed quickly, and Rachel congratulated herself on making him eat all the lasagne. She worried about him; working too much, eating hardly anything at home, and looking tired, always. He'd confessed while they half paid attention to the show that he'd now spent so much time not answering Blaine that he wanted to call him, but felt that he had so much to say to him that he wanted to do it in person. She knew that he now berated himself for being a bad boyfriend, and he'd confessed he was starting to worry about Blaine. Blaine, who he'd snooped on by asking all their friends for whatever he could get. Britt had told him about their lunches, if you could call it that, and that had made an impression: Blaine usually had an almost Finn-like appreciation of food. Artie had told him of his refusal to be in the play, but then acceptance of a smaller part when he'd insisted they needed him. That didn't sound like Blaine at all, especially since there were several male leads to consider, and Blaine was an obvious choice. Sam had let slip that Blaine looked 'spacey' all the time now. Kurt had had to hold himself back from snorting when Sam told him this, considering the source.

Rachel frowned, and decided to defend Sam. "You know, he's really pretty astute when it comes to reading people."

"You're sure he knows the word 'astute' -"

"Hey! You know, if Blaine's looking spacey, don't you think that's serious?"

"I do. Sorry."

Rachel squinted at the clock across the room. "All right, show's over. Call the Warblers."

"It's like 12:30, don't you think that's kind of rude?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nice try. You know they're awake. Who are you going to call?"

Kurt sighed. The choice was obvious: Nick. Wes and David had graduated, Jeff was sweet but not as sensible as Nick, and Nick was now lead on the Council. Maybe, he thought, he'd be busy, or at a movie or something, and wouldn't pick up. "I'm gonna text first, okay, miz bossy?" He typed it out. **Hi! If you're free, can you call me? Thanks, Kurt.** Rachel had looked on intently. Kurt jumped when his phone rang out immediately.

"Kurt! I'm so glad you called!"

Kurt narrowed his eyes, and looked at Rachel, putting it on speaker phone, and wondering why Nick sounded so worried. "Nick? Is everything all right? You sound upset."

"You could say that. Did you know Blaine is here?"

"Um, no. How'd that happen?"

"Sebastian dragged him up here for a Warblers Harry Potter movie night." Kurt's whole face darkened, and he shot Rachel a foul look, mouthing 'see?'. "Kurt, he doesn't look good. He ate like he hadn't seen food in forever, and he was sociable and all, but he just wasn't right. But we all settled down to watch his favorite movies,"

"I know" Kurt interrupted.

"Right. And he fell asleep half way through the first one. And we were pretty noisy, I mean, it was us, you know."

Kurt frowned at his phone. This didn't seem to warrant the worried tone he'd heard, or the relief in Nick's voice when he picked up. "Okay. Food. Sleep. Warblers. Sounds pretty tame." Kurt agreed.

"Well, a few of the guys had dropped off, I mean you know how it is, some of 'em are exhausted by the end of the week, but me and Jeffy were awake, and in the middle of the Prisoner of Azkaban I heard something, and went to check him out. He was flailing around in his sleep something awful. Then he started to moan, and then it sounded like he was calling for help, and crying, and it was hard to wake him up."

"No." Kurt breathed out, barely audibly.

"It was horrible, Kurt. We eventually got him calmed down, and I put him in Jeffy's bed so I could keep an eye on him. I don't think I'm going to be going to sleep soon."

Kurt swallowed. He remembered that Blaine had horrific nightmares in the past; he'd learned of it by accident when Wes had quietly asked him if he was still having them. When he asked Blaine (since as far as he knew he hadn't) Blaine had confessed that since they'd come together as boyfriends he hadn't had them at all. It was only when he talked to Wes later on that he discovered just how bad they'd been, and that Wes had revealed that they were most prevalent at the damnedest times, when he was stressed (and since everyone at Dalton seemed to stress at finals, dealing with him those nights had been a pain, but one he'd taken on after he'd witnessed the first one).

"Can I talk to him?"

Nick sighed, and looked at the passed-out boy six feet away. He looked to Jeff, who nodded 'no'.

"Kurt, he told us about … New York. He's heartbroken. He's also exhausted, and dead asleep right now. He just wants you back so badly. Unless you're calling to tell him that ..."

Kurt didn't know what to say. What Nick was implying was clear enough. But questions swirled around his brain. He couldn't forget what Nick had said, how 'Sebastian dragged him to the Warblers' movie night'. What did that mean? He couldn't bring himself to ask what he wanted to know, wasn't sure if Nick would know anyway, or would tell him if the did. "I'm glad you're taking care of him, Nick. You're right, let him sleep. I'm coming to Ohio next Friday. He doesn't know that yet, though."

Rachel looked at him with big eyes, a small smile starting.

"Good, I guess. Do you want to tell him anything?"

Kurt gulped, and looked to Rachel, mouthed, 'a little help here?'. She nodded vigorously, 'yes'.

"You can tell him I called, that I'm glad he's with you, and to check his messages when he wakes up."

**A/N: Sorry, need to sleep. More soon. Thank you to all of you reading and reviewing. Your thoughts and insights, and encouragement are so welcome!**


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry, dear fans of this story (and maybe even my others) … I've changed my name; not something I really wanted to do, but I do have my reasons. I'm still me – I'll now just go by Nightingale63. I do plan to add an epilogue, soon, and hope you'll bear with me. Please feel free to PM me if you have any questions, and thanks for your patience.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Still don't own Glee. Since my last chapter, the show's back; so now my story is a bit more AU, though I'll keep canon in mind.**

_**From last chapter...**_

_"It was horrible, Kurt. We eventually got him calmed down, and I put him in Jeffy's bed so I could keep an eye on him. I don't think I'm going to be going to sleep soon."_

_Kurt swallowed. He remembered that Blaine had horrific nightmares in the past; he'd learned of it by accident when Wes had quietly asked him if he was still having them. When he asked Blaine (since as far as he knew he hadn't) Blaine had confessed that since they'd come together as boyfriends he hadn't had them at all. It was only when he talked to Wes later on that he discovered just how bad they'd been, and that Wes had revealed that they were most prevalent at the damnedest times, when he was stressed (and since everyone at Dalton seemed to stress at finals, dealing with him those nights had been a pain, but one he'd taken on after he'd witnessed the first one)._

_"Can I talk to him?"_

_Nick sighed, and looked at the passed-out boy six feet away. He looked to Jeff, who nodded 'no'._

_"Kurt, he told us about … New York. He's heartbroken. He's also exhausted, and dead asleep right now. He just wants you back so badly. Unless you're calling to tell him that ..."_

_Kurt didn't know what to say. What Nick was implying was clear enough. But questions swirled around his brain. He couldn't forget what Nick had said, how 'Sebastian dragged him to the Warblers' movie night'. What did that mean? He couldn't bring himself to ask what he wanted to know, wasn't sure if Nick would know anyway, or would tell him if the did. "I'm glad you're taking care of him, Nick. You're right, let him sleep. I'm coming to Ohio next Friday. He doesn't know that yet, though."_

_Rachel looked at him with big eyes, a small smile starting._

_"Good, I guess. Do you want to tell him anything?"_

_Kurt gulped, and looked to Rachel, mouthed, 'a little help here?'. She nodded vigorously, 'yes'._

_"You can tell him I called, that I'm glad he's with you, and to check his messages when he wakes up."_

Blaine didn't hear the soft noise his phone made, telling him the text was there. He really didn't hear anything. Nick nodded tiredly over to Jeff, who smiled and joined him, turning out the light as he crossed the room.

Nick wasn't really surprised the next morning that Blaine was still asleep after he and Jeff had awakened and gotten ready for the day. He figured his friend was just thoroughly sleep-deprived, and was happy to let him sleep as long as he could.

He looked up, hearing a soft knock at the door, and padded over to the door to answer it, hoping whoever it was was going to be quiet.

"Sebastian," he whispered. Looking at the heavily laden tray from the Dalton caf, he beamed at the tall Warbler. "You are definitely maybe on track to get off Santa's naughty list this year."

"Definitely maybe," he quietly drawled back, "my chances are that good?" He glanced over, confirming why they were whispering. "Nothing else, last night?"

"Not a peep. Jeffy here's a light sleeper, believe me, he'd know." Jeff smiled, and nodded as he acknowledged this. "Thanks, man, this is great. How'd you know we wouldn't want to leave him?"

Sebastian just smirked and raised an eyebrow for a moment. "No wonder he looked like shit. This probably wasn't the first time."

Jeff walked over to talk to them, and accepted a coffee and an egg and cheese sandwich on an English muffin. "Thanks for this, by the way." He munched thoughtfully, and shared a look with Nick. "Are you sure we can't look?"

"Look at what?" Sebastian managed to sound sharp, even in a whisper.

Nick frowned at both of them. "One, his phone is locked, so we can't. Two, just no. Three, then the message would show as 'read'. You really wanna have to explain that?"

"Spill. Now."

Nick looked worriedly over at this still sleeping friend, and hustled Sebastian over to the furthest corner of the large room. "Kurt called last night. He didn't know Blaine was here, but he wanted to know if I knew how Blaine was doing." He shared a sour look with the taller boy. "I know, right? Well, I did tell him Blaine was here and all … I didn't even think, it was right after we'd gotten him up here and he'd fallen back asleep so fast. Anyway, he said to tell him he'd called, and to check his messages. And he's coming to Ohio next Friday. I don't remember if he wanted me to tell him that or not," he shared a look with his boyfriend, who shrugged cutely; apparently he was unsure of that too. "And that's all I know."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

Nick frowned. "Maybe? I mean, we don't know what the text says, so we don't know why he's coming."

"I think maybe we should wait until we know what the text says," Jeff added.

Then they all heard it; a sleepy-sounding snort, followed by a raspy-voiced, "hey guys. What text?"

* * *

Blaine accepted Sebastian's offer of a drive back home that afternoon. He looked again at the text, still hardly believing it was there. **I'm coming to Lima Friday, and I want to talk to you then, face to face. I wish I could make time go faster till then, Kurt.**

What did it mean? He'd been elated to read the text, but then it felt unreal, when his eager responses went unanswered. This was better than nothing, but why send that message and then still not talk to him for almost a week? He wanted to feel happy, like his friends seemed to be for him, but he wasn't able to do it. What if he was just coming to break up with him for good? Up until now, he'd had hope, even if it wasn't very strong.

But Nick admitted that Kurt sounded worried about him when he'd called, and was relieved that he was passed out, sleeping in Nick's room. That sounded like he cared, right? But was that the same as still loving him, or was it just pity. He frowned, as he looked to the scenery racing by. Sebastian drove fast but seemed adept at not getting tickets. Kurt had forgiven Dave Karofsky, had pity on him, despite the hell he'd been responsible for inflicting on him. He wanted to take solace from what little he had to go on here, just like his friends wanted him to, but found that comfort was just too hard to grab hold of. In the end, despite having eaten more in the past day than he had in a long time (his friends had smartly forced him to eat a good breakfast before letting him get into a funk about not getting an immediate text back) and finally getting some sleep (that, he found, did feel good on a purely physical level: he hadn't realized how much his body routinely ached from lack of sleep and tense muscles) he felt the unease creep back into his bones.

"Talk to me." Blaine was interrupted from his thoughts, which had now started to loop endlessly, like the menu screen on a DVD after you've seen the movie. He faced Sebastian.

"Thank you. For trying to help. No, that sounds stupid. You did help – I needed to see the guys, and hanging out, eating too much pizza and snacks, and just zoning out to Harry Potter; that was really cool. I feel like such a self-absorbed … I don't know what … I mean, I was holding it together before that and -"

"I'm going to stop you right there. _You fooled no one_." He narrowed his eyes at Blaine's look of incomprehension. "You were never 'holding it together' very well. Remember, I've seen evidence first hand to the contrary. Look, we've been over this. Save the social niceties for the people who want them, which I guess is maybe everyone else," he smirked, "but not me. Not ever."

Blaine grimaced. He had to admit, Sebastian's no-bullshit policy was in its own way a relief. No pretending all was well (to an audience willing to believe the lie). No false assurances that life was just great, so much to look forward to. It was refreshing. "Fine. Thank you for what you did, though."

Sebastian's smirking smile was back. "Killer, can't have you pining away like that. Fine piece of ass going all to waste -"

"Sebastian!"

"What? You think he'd disagree with me? Seriously, you're better than that. I can't force you to forget him," he looked sideways at his passenger, "but you might give me credit for trying to send you to him when I thought it would do you some good, but either way …" and his voice lost all its playful sarcasm, "I couldn't let you go through that alone."

"Good call."

"Just don't go assuming the worst, all right? If he really didn't give a shit, he wouldn't have called Nick to spy on you. Why would he bother to come out here just to make you feel worse?"

Sebastian noticed a faint smile at this. "Would he believe you're giving me relationship advice?"

He snorted at this. "No! I can barely believe it myself. If you tell anyone, I will end you," he punctuated this with an evil laugh.

"Did you know you sounded just like Santana then?" Blaine giggled back.

* * *

"Kurt, can you come into my office for a minute, please?"

Kurt looked up from the layout he was trying to finalize, nodded, and followed Isabelle into her office, where she shut the door behind them. "These are for you … I didn't want anyone out there to get jealous," she added quickly, darting her eyes to the outer office.

He looked down at the two tickets for Nice Work if You Can Get It for tomorrow night. "Wow. But why -"

"Kurt, I'm so sorry, but I'm gonna beg you to take tomorrow off, see if maybe your friend Rachel would like to go with you to the show, and … I need you on Saturday. The regular magazine's cover shoot has been rescheduled, and they had to re-do our schedule too, so Saturday is what we've got the crew for, not Thursday after all. I hope that's all right."

Kurt stood in shock. God! She could talk as fast as Rachel. This was the weekend they were going to go to Lima; she'd known he was going, but not all the details. He'd encased his personal life in a tight shell at his internship since that awful night, and even Isabelle didn't know much beyond the barest details. Which was good, as he didn't trust himself to be able to hold himself together for that kind of a talk, and losing control at work was the last thing he wanted to do. They'd happily let him slave away, everyone marveling at what a workaholic he was, grateful for how eager he seemed to be to do anything and everything. His heart sunk; Isabelle was the nicest boss ever, but she clearly expected him to accept her peace offering (which most editors wouldn't have bothered with, he knew that) and make other plans.

"Um, wow, I love Matthew Broderick. I heard this was great. Rach hasn't seen it yet either, and she doesn't have Tuesday night classes. Thanks."

"Great!" she swooped in for a quick hug. "I knew I could count on you. I'm just glad I had these tickets to say thanks with. You're the best!" And she shepherded him out of her office.

* * *

"And you said you had other plans, right?" Rachel's look chided him.

"No." He looked at his feet. Damn. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next, as he put the boxes of Chinese food for dinner on the table.

"Kurt." She frowned at him, her mouth drawn into an uncharacteristically flat line. "Look at me."

"Rachel -"

"This isn't good, you know."

"You think I don't know that!"

"Don't, Kurt. You have to make this right. After weeks of … nothing, you spy on him, calling Nick, and then you text him that you'll see him Friday, but refuse to do anything more than that one text, and now this? Call him."

"I can't. I have to see him face to face, Rach. There's been too much -"

"Exactly! Too much silence, too much sadness, and quite frankly, too damn much punishing!" She regretted it the instant she said it, looking at Kurt's crushed expression as he withdrew to the couch and curled into a ball. "Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that -"

"No, don't apologize. You just said what you thought. What I've even thought, lately. Hell, I don't even know what I'm punishing him _for_; he wanted to tell me, that's what kills me. That's just so Blaine, he wanted to blurt out everything, even if half of it came out wrong. And maybe you're right, maybe that picture with Sebastian isn't what I thought either; I mean, Nick would have told me, right? And he did tell me that he wants me back, Rachel. I'm such an idiot."

Rachel frowned at her friend, joining him on the couch, yet again in tears. But it was different this time, she felt. The anger wasn't there, except for that directed at himself. He was finally admitting out loud things that she'd thought, but didn't want to say. She kissed his shoulder as she continued to hold him as he cried. "We're all idiots sometimes, dummy. We've got to make another plan."

* * *

Blaine sat next to Brittany at lunch, like usual.

"My dolphin!" She gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Someone looks happy today," he smiled back at her as he settled into the seat opposite her.

"Santana sent me this adorable text with a video of a kitten scaring a German Shepherd. Wanna see?"

"Sure, Britt. So, you hear much from her lately?"

She frowned a bit before answering. "Sometimes. I mean, I still miss our dates, and we're still sort of broken up, but we still text and talk sometimes. I still don't want anyone else, but it feels like we're really not all the way broken up, you know?" She smiled at him. "So, Friday, right?"

He smiled a small smile. "Friday. Why is this week so long?"

"Lord Tubbington doesn't know either; I already asked him that," she teased back.

Blaine's brows furrowed as he noted a text message, then he dropped his head into the table seconds later.

"What? Blaine, are you okay?"

He passed the phone over to her. **Blaine, I'm so sorry, I can't come on Friday. So sorry. I'll let you know when I've rescheduled. Please forgive me. Kurt.**

_**A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger, really I am. Thoughts, folks? We've gotten a little of Kurt's perspective here, and some Dalton action. I'd love to hear from you. Sorry about my change of nom de plume, but everything's fine.**_

_**I'd love your feedback. For instance, did the recap at the beginning help? Thoughts on characters, etc.? Thanks for reading :-)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Still don't own Glee, or anything you recognize...**

_**from last time...**_

_Blaine's brows furrowed as he noted a text message, then he dropped his head into the table seconds later._

"_What? Blaine, are you okay?"_

_He passed the phone over to her. **Blaine, I'm so sorry, I can't come on Friday. So sorry. I'll let you know when I've rescheduled. Please forgive me. Kurt.**_

Blaine hadn't been surprised when his answering text went unanswered. It was the middle of the day, and back from before that awful night (which now seemed ages ago, another era) he recalled all too clearly that during the day Kurt's attention wasn't his.

His brain buzzed with the last comment, Kurt asking for forgiveness. He wanted to read more into it (like, refusing to talk to him compounded by refusing to text and on and on), but couldn't convince himself there was any more to it. What flimsy excuse was keeping him from coming? Cold feet? Something he should have just said no to?

It was now night time, and like the small child he'd once been, he dreaded it. Flopping in bed, exhausted but unable to settle down to sleep, and then dreading the nightmares, which either visited him or didn't. Every night a new round of roulette. Getting into his pajamas, he heard the sound alerting him to a text, and jumped for his phone over on the desk (stubbing his toe on the corner of the bedframe en route). He sighed, just Nick. **Hey buddy, just seeing how you're doing. If you're still up, we can chat if you want. Call me. Nick.**

It was nice to see evidence of the concern, it really was. But no one, outside of Brittany, knew about the canceled plans for this Friday. And he just wasn't up to talking about it. Sighing, he turned off his phone altogether, not wanting to talk about it. Maybe a shower, he thought. A quiet one.

* * *

"I never did peg him as an early-to-bed kind of guy," Nick frowned at his phone, putting it down after a few minutes, figuring maybe Blaine had gotten to sleep after all.

"You know very well he's not, Nicky. The combo of his caffeine addition -"

"His Chemical Romance" Nick interrupted.

"Yes, and insane work ethic. Well, and that he's basically a puppy when he gets excited about new Warbler routines" Jeff continued.

"Which he always got inspiration for – at bedtime!" they both snorted, remembering too many of those, chasing him out of their room midweek, reminding him of classes the next day, and pleading fatigue at not wanting to try out his choreography ideas.

"Well, if he was miserable he'd be awake, brooding probably, and he'd call me back, don't you think?"

Jeff moved to sit beside his boyfriend. "Nick, he knows that we're here for him, so even if he just sees the message in the morning, that's something."

* * *

Blaine's mother was surprised, passing her son's empty room the next day, to see his beloved phone on the desk, and Blaine already out of the house. He'd left early, again; a disturbing new habit, but she could smell the coffee downstairs. She hoped he'd eaten something to go with it. She frowned, picking up the laundry she'd set down, and returned to her room, where she set her own alarm to go off earlier for tomorrow. He'd made it clear he was fine with getting himself out to school on time, but she wanted to make sure to be there, next time. Talking to her husband about it didn't help; he was sure Blaine would get over it, and the sooner the better. She wished she shared his opinion.

* * *

Artie sped up to match Blaine's quick pace as he headed towards the workout room. "Blaine! Hey, man, stop."

He turned, and adjusted his gaze to Artie's level. "Artie. What's up?" He noticed the frown on the teen's face.

"Um, looking for you. Didn't you get the message? We were staging your number today, and Finn's been having to fill in for you; we'll be lucky if he doesn't fall down the stairs. Singing and dancing's enough of a challenge for him. I mean, I love the guy and all, but, you know. Adding steep stairs to that, on an all-white set? Disaster!"

Blaine looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry, Artie. I don't have my phone with me..."

"Let's go run through it before Finn falls on one of the girls or something, okay?" Artie tried to make light of the situation, but noticed Blaine was back to looking dead in the eyes. "Um, unless you're really not up for it..."

Blaine snapped his head up, breaking off from looking at his shoes, and has instantly hit with an unpleasant head rush. He shook it off, and put on his best show smile. "Nah, I don't wanna keep 'em waiting. Let's go. And thanks for getting me."

* * *

Sugar lingered by Artie's chair after almost everyone else had gone. "Did Blaine seem a little, I don't know, _off_, to you?"

Artie sighed, a long sigh. Dayum. If even Sugar was picking up on it, he'd have to say it was more than a little off. Answering her, he admitted, "well, maybe he was a bit off his game because he got here late. You know he hates to do that."

"Yeah, but, I mean, Tina almost got knocked off the stairs, and if we wanted that kind of thing, we could have kept Finn up there!" Sugar rattled on. Noticing Finn across the room, she added in a quieter voice, "No offense. I mean, Blaine's vocals are dreamy, but did he look dizzy or something up there to you?"

Artie's frown deepened. "Just an off day, Sugar. I'm sure he'll be better tomorrow. I'll make sure I remind him when I see him in third period about the next rehearsal. You were great, by the way."

She beamed back at him, and swooped in to kiss his cheek. "You noticed," she flirted. "Well, so are you, Mr. Director."

* * *

Friday afternoon was nearly ending, the sky darkening, and with it, the temperature started to drop precipitously. Blaine didn't notice. He'd asked Artie if he wouldn't mind doing his one scene first so he could go home. He listened as his castmates set up for the next number, hastily assembling his gear, and ready to go home.

Finn grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, dude?"

Blaine looked up. He hadn't noticed Finn's approach, and had jumped a bit at the unexpected contact. "Um, hey, Finn."

Finn's brows furrowed, as he placed his other hand on Blaine's opposite shoulder. "Dude, you wanna talk?"

About my devastated love life? My nonexistent home life? How much I don't care about applying for colleges right now? Blaine tried to shake himself from this tangent. How to talk to the guy Kurt considered a brother about all this? "Not really. I just want to go -"

"No." Finn blocked his path. "Look, I get it, that you're upset. And, look, I'm sorry that, you know, I reacted the way I did at first. But this can't go on forever, man. You've got to know that."

Blaine shook his head, suddenly so weary. "I wish I did. Finn, I just want to go home and crash -"

"Why haven't you answered your texts for the last two days?"

Blaine looked away, towards the double doors he wished he was retreating out of. "How do you know this?" He was also surprised that he cared, frankly.

"Dude, this isn't just about missing rehearsal call times." Finn looked around, furtively, and dropped his voice. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, I'm pretty sure. But, …_ screw it_. Rachel talked to me. You hear that, Blaine? Rachel talked to me about Kurt, because he's worried about you. I guess he texted you a couple of days ago, and you sent something back, and he tried to -"

"Tried to what, Finn? Do you know that he went _weeks_ without answering me in any way? That I didn't even know if we were broken up or not for most of that? That I got tired of hoping for another text back, because every time I checked my phone and there was nothing, again, it just felt like a fresh stab. So, I'm taking a break. From my phone. Is that a crime now?"

Finn stepped back, not prepared for Blaine's angry tone. "I'm just trying to -"

"Don't." His tone was flat again. "I just can't … Finn, it hurts too much to talk about it. I need to go." And he stepped around the tall teen.

* * *

"I never thought getting a taste of my own medicine would be this awful," Kurt muttered, throwing himself onto the couch, as Rachel quickly made more room for him.

"You really think that's what he's doing? That kind of doesn't sound like Blaine." She didn't say what they both were thinking; that the Blaine they knew had all but bombarded Kurt with texts, even when he got no encouragement, even when he didn't know if they were being read or not.

"You explain it then, I'm out of theories." Kurt snapped. "Sorry, Rach, that was harsh."

She snuggled in closer to him. "Exactly how long has it been?"

"Since Tuesday. God, I've been so stupid." His eyes teared up. "It's like, once I knew I was going to see him, I couldn't wait to talk to him again, to let him do what he'd wanted to do right away, hear him out. This is killing me, Rach. I should be there right now, not cursing that I'll have to show up at work before the crack of dawn for a damn shoot. Why did I say I could do it?" He dissolved in tears now, and she reached over to hold him while he cried.

She thought, I have no words, none that will help. She'd tried, ever since that weekend, to get him to talk it out with Blaine, had pleaded for him to answer his texts, to acknowledge the flowers and gifts. All of her advice had fallen on deaf ears, so after a while she'd kept it to herself. She opted now to do all she knew to do, hold him in her arms, rocking him slightly, as if he were a stricken child, patting his back softly, and just letting him cry.

After a while, he picked up his head, silently took the box of tissues she passed to him, and hugged her back, tightly. "You're good at this, you know."

"I've had some practice lately." She waited for him to speak again.

"Do you know what I've realized?" He paused a moment, trying to even out his breathing. "I sort of don't care who the fuck this Eli guy is. Was. Whatever. Or what they did; I mean, I used to obsess, what did they do? How far did they go? What can I forgive? But screw it. I finally get it. Dad was right; I only know because Blaine chose to tell me; no one else knew anything about it. He totally could have gotten away with it, but he wanted to come clean. With whatever it was." His voice dropped, as he looked forlornly at the night view of the city. "He's miserable, and not being able to tell me, it was probably the hardest thing ever for him, you know how he is." He grabbed Rachel's hands, his face now a mask of worry. "He was miserable. Before. And I didn't see it; I was so blinded by being here, and being so busy -"

"Kurt."

"No, I need to say this. Even when we skyped, I didn't see it, but it's like now, when I think back, I do. How is that possible? He wanted to tell me things, he wanted to just talk about old times, and all I could do was rattle on about how great my internship is and how fabulous our life here is. How can I remember, that he wanted me to help him pick the perfect bowtie for his debate at school, and that I blew it off then?" His tears were back, his eyes fierce. "He fucking knows how to pick a bowtie, Rachel! But he wanted me to care, to obsess about outfits like always, to flirt with him about which one he'd look cutest in with which shirt. Why do I remember this so clearly now, and how was I so blind then?!"

She looked into her lap, reminded of her own relationship mistakes. She knew too well how recall worked, and how it could torment.

Kurt went on, oblivious to his friend's silence. "And suddenly, I get it. I don't care. I just want him back. His heart is mine; so what, whatever he did with Eli. I just want to tell him that; that I love him, that I miss him, that nothing changes that. I want to trust him. I just don't know how."

"I think you need to tell him all of this." Her voice was quiet, sure.

"I know I do. But I've got to do it in person. But I tried to text him, to at least let him know I wasn't coming out to break up with him for good, and I don't know why suddenly... nothing."

"We've got to make this work," she murmured.

* * *

Sebastian pulled into the driveway at number 21. It was a decent hour, and he had no doubt he'd be home. Nick and Jeff had been clear about how worried they were, and while he didn't favor letting it show the same way, he was with them on this. That, and Blaine wasn't returning his calls or texts either. He'd resolved before they all finally went to bed that he'd attack this directly, and wasn't in a mood to delay. He rang the bell, and waited a few seconds.

Nothing. He scanned the house, looking through the window on the front door. He knew Blaine's parents were seldom home, but figured Blaine would be. He rang again, waited. He walked down the walkway, for a better view of the quiet house. Blaine's car was there. Returning to the door, he rapped on it, loudly, becoming increasingly annoyed. He stepped to the side so that Blaine would be forced to open the door before he decided if he wanted to deal with whoever was there.

Seconds later, his patience paid off, and when Blaine opened the door to peer out, he inserted his foot and shoulder and pushed it open all the way.

"Good morning to you, too."

**A/N: Thoughts? I'd love to hear 'em. Sneaking in a quick chapter, soon to go off to sleep...**

**Thanks for reading, and please review if you're at all inclined.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I don't own Glee, etc. **

_**[Cue Glee voiceover guy] And here's what you missed...**_

_He rang the bell, and waited a few seconds._

_Nothing. He scanned the house, looking through the window on the front door. He knew Blaine's parents were seldom home, but figured Blaine would be. He rang again, waited. He walked down the walkway, for a better view of the quiet house. Blaine's car was there. Returning to the door, he rapped on it, hard and repeatedly, becoming increasingly annoyed. He stepped to the side so that Blaine would be forced to open the door before he decided if he wanted to deal with whoever was there._

_Seconds later, his patience paid off, and when Blaine opened the door to peer out, he inserted his foot and shoulder and pushed it open all the way._

"_Good morning to you, too."_

Blaine frowned at the boy who had worked his way into the entryway. "Sebastian. What are you doing here?"

"Really. All right, Amish paradise boy, you asked. No texts? Someone forget to pay your phone bill? E-mail broken too? Oh, I know, we could just message you on Facebook. Except you disabled your account. Fine. So, here we are." Sebastian glowered down at him, but his expression softened as he took in the sight before him. Blaine really didn't look well, and also wasn't making eye contact.

Blaine wandered towards the kitchen, so he followed, mirroring the boy's actions as he settled into one of the kitchen chairs.

"I … I just need to get through this week. I'm so tired."

"Why? What about this week?" He probed the face in front of him, again made harder by the fact that Blaine was still avoiding eye contact, his face angled towards his feet. "Talk to me."

"We're almost finished. The show is this weekend. I just want to get through it."

"And then?"

Blaine now turned his face to look at him directly. "I just need to sleep, all right. Look, I appreciate that you're here, but I don't think you can help me. It's all right. Thanks for trying. I'm just not very sociable right now."

Why was this quiet-voiced, dead looking Blaine worse than the sobbing wreck he'd seen too much of these past weeks? What was he trying to tell him? Sebastian shook his head, and tried again. "Coffee break maybe? I hear they've got a shop here with a corny name but fantastic java."

"No, thanks."

The silence hung awkwardly. Since when did Blaine turn down coffee, especially at the Lima Bean? He could feel that he wasn't reaching him at all. "Maybe I could just stay here, and, I dunno, keep you company while we both do homework?" Lame, he chided himself. But he'd been unprepared for how Blaine was acting now.

"No, that's okay. I'm just going to try to … do some stuff, maybe sleep. I'm not good company."

Sebastian's brows furrowed. Blaine was all but kicking him out of his house. He sat there for a couple of minutes, unsure of what to do. "Blaine, I think you need to talk about it –"

"No. Sorry, but … I'm not up for this."

He got up, and looked down at Blaine. He remembered something he'd been taught in orientation. "Just answer me one question. Are you safe?"

Blaine looked up. He didn't need elaboration; he'd had the same orientations at Dalton. "No drugs, no cuts, no plan." He sighed.

"We're coming to the show, you know."

He managed a tight-lipped, unconvincing smile. "Thanks. It means a lot."

Blaine was suddenly engulfed in a tight hug, and responded only with a weak squeeze back. "Maybe later, when you get some rest, turn your phone back on, okay?" Blaine was back to looking blank. "We'll be calling later."

Blaine nodded, and followed him out to the door.

* * *

"Fuck!" Nick spluttered, pocketing his phone and getting ready to leave Warblers' Hall.

Jeff nodded, having seen the screen. Sebastian joined them. "Still nothing?"

The look on Nick's face showed the answer plainly. "Did you text Artie?"

"I did. He's been there for rehearsals, he does his one number, he leaves. He hasn't missed classes, but they won't let you go to rehearsals at McKinley if you cut a class. Artie's worried too, but Blaine's not talking to him either."

* * *

_Gotta be goin' to_

_ That malt shop_

_ In the sky_

_ Beauty school dropout_

_ Go back to high school_

_ Beauty school dropout_

_ Go back to high school_

Sugar looked longingly as her Teen Angel made his exit, the costumed girls around her taking their places before the lights faded to black. His voice sounded smooth as ever, perfect, really.

Tina had truly done wonders with makeup, she thought. Blaine's pallor was now masked by just the right foundation shade, his lips pinked up a bit too. The pleated white trousers, and slightly loose sweater rested lightly on him. Sugar knew they'd made good wardrobe choices there: he looked fabulous in an outfit she would have bet no one could rock, but she suspected it was a plus that it wasn't form-fitting. She thought maybe Blaine's weight was dropping, but since he was one of the only cast members with only one outfit, no one had seen him change. But she'd seen how his regular pants looked looser, and Blaine was always putting on a sweater nowadays. His hands were cool when they grasped hers during their scene.

Blaine reached the top of the white stairs, the spotlight following him in this first full dress rehearsal. How ironic, he thought, walking in a tube of light towards pure blank whiteness, by himself. Or maybe not ironic at all, he thought grimly; the Teen Angel, who only appears once, and is the only character who is a dead teenager. He thought back to the comfortable times of watching TV with his beloved Grammie...

"_Blaine, honey, your show's over, why don't you go play outside for a while?"_

"_But Grammie, can I just watch this with you first?" his seven year old face glued to the screen._

"_Sweetie, it's not even a real show. That's just that long commercial thingie for selling oldies..."_

_He wasn't listening, entranced already by the snatches of songs that played, with little videos to go with them, while song titles scrolled down the screen. He loved all the ghost story ones the most, the sad teen angels that would never grow old. She always let him watch, amazed later by how many of the song bits he picked up, and how delighted he was when she played some of them on records and cassettes and he got to hear the whole songs._

"Ah, good work, Blaine, Sugar. Girls, you were perfect." Finn's voice came over the mic.

"The dance moves are so down, people. Blaine, can we run it one more time? I'd like to see you connect with Frenchie just a little more, okay?" Artie asked.

"Of course." And he headed into position to do it again.

* * *

"Nick, you ready?"

"Yeah. We'll meet you at my car in five." Jeff nodded, closing his overnight bag.

"_Your_ car?" Sebastian sounded annoyed.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Yes, my car. _The land yacht_. I get it. Yes, we are taking the Buick. Your adorable sports car is so not comfortable for sleeping, and we're driving starting at, what? Three thirty?"

Sebastian huffed, and accepted defeat gracelessly. "It's only nine and a half hours by GPS, so like, seven if I'm driving."

"Okay. A – you're insane. B – outside Ohio, your dad's ability to shield you from massive tickets or worse goes away completely. C – Just no. You're insane, but we want to get there in one piece, and forgive me if some of us would like a nap now and then."

Jeff was just glad their quarterly break was here. It was Wednesday, and they had no classes or new assignments until Monday. They'd made it, but getting their assignments in had been the usual time squeeze, and he was sure once the coffee and Red Bulls wore off they'd crash hard.

"My point exactly. Staying awake is way easier in my car," he countered.

"That's not the only consideration," Jeff volunteered. "I mean, if he can come back with us, Nicky's comfy land yacht can fit him in, easy. Besides, I love the land yacht."

Sebastian gave up for real now. "Fine. But stop making heart eyes at each other. I'd say 'get a room' except you already have one."

Nick smirked at his friend. "Ah yes, as always, gracious in defeat. If you behave, maybe I'll even let you drive." At a warning look from Jeff he added, "in Ohio anyway."

* * *

"Rachel, I've gotta go this weekend. You have got to come with me."

She heard the usual bustle of the Vogue dot com office in the background. "I don't know, Kurt, I mean, I've got -"

"_Come on_. I need you. And Mike and 'Cedes will be there, and … I just need you with me for this." His voice was quiet, and his eyes darted around. As soon as he'd gotten the all-clear from Isabelle, he'd started making plans.

She sighed. She could miss this weekend, she decided. He needed her, and she felt she could face Finn. Part of her wanted to be there to cheer him on. "You will _so_ owe me -"

"I know. But thanks. You know I love you."

"I do. See you later, hon."

"Okay, later."

* * *

"Blaine?" She walked by his door, closed as usual these days, hearing nothing. "Blaine? I'm coming in."

And there he was. Sleeping again. Since when did he sleep that much, she wondered. She had a vague memory of his last growth spurt before going off to Dalton, when he'd slept more than usual. She knelt beside his bed, and moved a stray curl away from his face. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but she knew he was looking pale lately. She shook his shoulder, gently at first, then harder. "Honey? Dinner in about fifteen minutes." He rolled over, away from her. She crossed to the other side of his bed.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I know you're tired, but you are coming to dinner. Do I have to come back here in a few minutes?" Her tone had changed, unconsciously, from caring to commanding, as he failed to respond.

He finally got to a half sitting position, opening his eyes blearily. "No, you don't have to do that. I'll be there. Thanks, mom."

* * *

"We'll be there in like an hour," Sebastian announced confidently.

"You're a slave driver," Nick answered. "Also, I'm driving, pull over."

"I can slow down," he protested.

"Really."

Sebastian shot him a smirk. "And I can play chicken with these amateurs," he lifted one hand to sweep all the lanes of the New Jersey turnpike around them. "This is tame compared to Paris."

They finally found a parking space near the location the GPS guided them to near nine o'clock. They were arguing about whether to unload anything from the car, or just hide it and lock it, when their voices attracted the attention of a tired ex-Warbler emerging from the subway nearby.

Kurt stared at them, noticing first Jeff's almost white-blond hairdo; whenever he saw someone with hair at all like that here, it always reminded him of Jeff... who was right there? He walked quicker, and it was confirmed when he saw Nick join Jeff's side, as they argued with … Sebastian? "You're really better off springing for the parking garage across the street. More likely all the pieces will still be there when you get out."

The three boys turned around, happy disbelief on all their faces, as Kurt warmly reunited with Nick and Jeff, and greeted Sebastian more formally.

"What on earth are you guys doing here?" The fatigue of his day vanished, energized by the sight of his friends. "Wait, there's nothing bad ..." and he instinctively reached for his phone, which showed no new activity.

"Warblers road trip!" Jeff crowed. Kurt noted that he didn't look as happy as that statement should sound.

**A/N: Updating soon! I promise. I'd love to hear your feedback on this chapter..**

**Sebastian refers to "Amish paradise" a Weird Al song about living with no technology (a la the Amish), something that is very out of character for Blaine. It's a reference Blaine gets, by the way.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Glee? Don't own it, or any songs, products you see here...**

"So, he's not talking to you either?" Kurt's voice betrayed sadness and fear. "I thought maybe it was just me. That's not like him at all." He looked over to the boys monopolizing his couch, facing them in the old overstuffed chair he'd bought with Rachel. Since when were Nick and Jeff besties with Sebastian? His mind caught on the image that had haunted him a couple of weeks ago, of Blaine in Sebastian's arms, outside the Lima Bean.

What right do I have to have a say about that, he wondered. I broke up with him; I wouldn't let him say anything. Blaine had mentioned someone named Eli, and had denied that it was Sebastian. But maybe it was, now. When he'd heard about Blaine's nightmares at the Warblers' movie night, he'd assumed he was just there as a friend. He hadn't asked, part of him not wanting to know if he'd really lost Blaine to Sebastian after all. He was so confused.

Sebastian had studied Kurt's face, and guessed he knew what Kurt was thinking. Part of him, once upon a time, would have reveled in how easy it would be to manipulate him now, to maybe even get the prize he'd coveted back then. He had no stomach for it now.

"Go ahead. Ask. I'll tell you whatever you want to know." Sebastian's voice cut clearly through the tense air.

For a moment, Kurt looked about to dissolve in tears, fearing that this was indeed confirmation. But if so, why was Blaine acting so broken? "You always wanted him. Well, at least this time you waited until he was unattached."

"You think that, huh?" he reached in his pocket for his phone.

"Why wouldn't I?" And Kurt cursed the tears that sprang to his eyes, as he tried to hold back.

Jeff was out of his seat and beside Kurt, reaching to give him a sideways hug, as Sebastian answered. "Don't believe me. Fine. I deserve that, I guess. Just read. Then, ask whatever questions you want." And he passed the phone over to Kurt, who took it, wordlessly.

Kurt read through the texts, oldest to latest, with growing distress. "You … you didn't?" he whispered back.

"No. Quite the opposite." He sighed, knowing it would take more time for Kurt to get through them.

"You sent him here?"

His exasperated sigh came out louder than he'd wanted it to. "_Yes_. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Kurt nodded, and thumbed through the texts, which chronicled clearly how broken Blaine had been when none of his texts or calls were acknowledged, and that Sebastian had tried to encourage him, and had gone to spend time with him when he felt friendless. He choked back a sob, eyes glued to the small screen, as the story came together for him. He noticed that the volley of texts and answers dried up after he'd canceled his trip to Lima; Sebastian's kept going, but with no answering texts from Blaine. "Oh God, Blaine. This is horrible."

He saw it now. Rachel was right, again; he'd not only been the love of Blaine's life, but his best friend too. Losing both at once had hit him hard, and he didn't need anyone to tell him what the emotional climate at home was like: Blaine's father was probably glad, and hoped Blaine would move on to girls (no amount of talking about it had ever made a difference), and his mother was not that close to him, and joined his father in frequent trips, leaving Blaine alone for days or even weeks sometimes. Before the breakup, Blaine had confessed to him that McKinley felt lonely, and that, along with Kurt, the other New Directions members he'd been closest to had been seniors.

Relations with the Warblers had been smoothed over after the whole rock salt slushie incident, but had never recovered completely. However, his closest friends among the Warblers, Wes, David, Nick, and Jeff had picked up almost where they left off, but again, Wes and David had graduated and moved on to college, and Nick and Jeff were busy. Kurt would never have expected Sebastian to be Blaine's comforter and confidant in any circumstance, but apparently that had indeed happened.

"How? How did you meet up with him to send him here in the first place?"

Sebastian told him everything, simply, and answered every question Kurt came up with. Nick and Jeff confirmed it. Even if he'd wanted to be suspicious, the long record of texts showing Sebastian's tenacious efforts to help Blaine spoke for itself.

"But what's happened since then?" he handed back the phone.

Nick and Jeff looked to Sebastian, not wanting to interrupt him, also not looking forward to this part of the story.

"He wouldn't answer my texts, or Nick's, or Jeff's. I called Artie, and found out that Blaine had just kind of given up on using his phone at all. Artie told me Blaine was acting weird, but he hadn't missed any school or rehearsals..."

"Weird how?" Kurt felt the bottom fall out of his stomach, dread creeping in.

"He said he was barely talking at school, and looked pale, and just … not right. But that although he tried to get him to talk about it, and Artie said Finn and some of the girls tried too, he just wouldn't. So, I went there Saturday morning."

Kurt looked at the tall Warbler, admiring his dedication at the same time he was sad for its reason. He sniffed as Sebastian took a breath and continued.

"He looked like hell, and this time he wouldn't talk to me, or cry, or … anything. I tried to get him to go for coffee, or even to just let me stay while he studied – but he basically kicked me out. He wouldn't even look at me. I asked him to turn on his phone when he got some sleep, but he never did."

"We kept checking," Nick added. "So, we decided to come talk to you, to see if we could get you to come back with us."

"Do you think ..."

"All he wants is you, Kurt," Jeff filled in. "You guys need to talk, and I think he needs more than just talk now. He needs you there."

"Oh God," Kurt buried his face in his hands, unable to hold back any longer from outright sobs.

Three of the boys turned their heads, as the door clanged open, and Rachel stepped into the room. She ran to Kurt's side, and her anxious eyes searched the visitors' faces. "Kurt, what's happened?"

* * *

Kurt would never again allow anyone to mock his tiny roommate, he decided that night. She'd snatched Kurt's phone, texting Isabelle, and finding that she was available, had called her on her own phone to let her know that Kurt needed some time in Lima. Rachel had been pleased with the answer she got, with hardly any explanation needed.

"You're a good friend, Rachel. Tell Kurt not to worry about it. Just tell him to call me if he's not going to make it back by Monday, but this Thursday and Friday is not going to be a problem. I'm so sorry I had him cancel last weekend -"

"You didn't know," Rachel reassured her. "But thanks, so much." They'd said their goodbyes, and Jeff pulled Rachel aside, filling her in on what had just happened. He hugged her as she tried to hold herself together, and she quickly collected herself and went into command mode.

She'd almost finished packing for him when Kurt joined her in his room.

"Rach, I think I can manage to dress myself for a couple days..."

She smiled, happy that he was showing evidence of recovery. "You sure about that? I had some very nice ensembles picked out," she teased.

"I'm sure," he chuckled, then reached to hold her in a quick hug. "You're the best," and he kissed the top of her head.

"He loves you, sweetie. With all his heart," she reassured him. They each had more than enough texts to prove it, and she knew for all his protestations of anger, he hadn't ever deleted Blaine's.

He could only nod, not trusting his voice, knowing that talking about it wouldn't help his composure.

"Coffee's ready," she whispered, hearing the chirp from the electric appliance.

* * *

In the end, Nick hadn't held back from good-naturedly gloating to Sebastian that he'd been right after all, when it came to the choice of car, as the spacious Buick allowed plenty of room, even with their fourth passenger.

"I've got this," Jeff insisted, punching in Kurt's home address in Lima into the GPS. "I'll do the first couple hours."

"I'll stay awake and keep you company," Nick insisted.

An hour later, as they were traversing New Jersey, Sebastian chuckled, unable to sleep yet, and tapped the back of Nick's seat to get his attention. Kurt was out, utterly exhausted and sleeping with his head nestled on Sebastian's shoulder. They knew they'd make the first performance that Thursday night.

**A/N: Short chapter, I know. But I just couldn't leave it there. Thanks for reading, and you know I'd love to hear from you. I'll try to update soon.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I still don't own Glee, or any songs, products, etc. you recognize...**

_**[Cue Glee voiceover guy] And here's what you missed...**_

_**An hour later, as they were traversing New Jersey, Sebastian chuckled, unable to sleep yet, and tapped the back of Nick's seat to get his attention. Kurt was out, utterly exhausted and sleeping with his head nestled on Sebastian's shoulder. They knew they'd make the first performance that Thursday night.**_

Kurt fished out his key, and blearily led them into his empty house. It was barely ten in the morning. He winced for a moment, remembering that awkward moment when he woke up from his nap, only to find himself slouched against, of all people, Sebastian. Really, Kurt, he shook his head. It couldn't have been Jeff, or Nick? Well, of course not; they were wonderful and supportive friends for him, but if one was driving, the other was always beside him. Like we used to be, he frowned, feeling the familiar ache settle into his chest, as if breathing too deeply would be too hard, not worth the trouble.

"Coffee, guys? Breakfast?" he turned to them. How the hell did Nick manage to look so chipper? Jeff looked adorably loopy, like he'd slip back into sleep with the slightest suggestion. Sebastian? Looked tired, but looked like if he had to he could stay awake longer.

"You really don't look like you should be trusted around appliances right now," Sebastian drawled, an amused look on his face. "And I don't want cereal. I am, however, thirsty. And tired." He raised his brows, cuing his host.

"What was I thinking? Let's see what we've got here..." and Kurt rummaged around, as Nick helped locate glasses.

"I'll take you up on the cereal offer," he added, passing glasses over to Jeff, as Kurt put out orange juice, and a few sports drinks he found in the fridge.

Shortly thereafter, Nick played lazily with Jeff's hair, his boyfriend passed out beside him on Finn's bed, and Kurt found himself awake in his old room, exhausted but unable to sleep at all. He gave it up after twenty minutes or so, only to find Sebastian in his living room, channel surfing, stretched out on the huge sectional, the volume on low.

"So, you're up." Sebastian stated the obvious, looking over at Kurt.

"I just want to see him, to reassure him, and now that I'm here I can't relax at all," he sighed in frustration. "Knowing what he's going through, worrying about him."

"Just because he's pretending his phone is broken doesn't mean everyone's is."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, taking in the calculating expression at play on the other boy's face. "I'm listening."

"Give me your phone," and Sebastian held out his hand. He composed a quick text to Artie.** Is Blaine at school today?** And raised his eyebrows, asking for permission to send.

The response was fast. **Yeah. He kind of looks like hell. Good thing Tina's an ace at stage makeup. Why?**

Kurt motioned to get control of his phone back, and Sebastian leaned over him, curious to see what he'd send next. **Can't tell you yet. But I will later, okay? **He waited, rewarded moments later by Artie's answer. **Okay. But you guys need to talk.** Kurt nodded, and put his phone down.

"Sebastian, will you do me a favor?"

"Nothing we'll regret in the morning, sweet cheeks?" Sebastian smirked, teasing him.

Kurt summoned his best _bitch, please_ glare. "First, it _is_ morning already. And not that kind of favor. Mind in the gutter much?" He chuckled at the innocent expression the tall boy put on for him. "No, I already know the answer to that," he added smugly. "Will you help me do something for Blaine?"

About an hour later, exhaustion came back, hitting both of them full force now. But he felt peaceful, having sent the fruit of their labor, and smiled gently, looking at the text confirming that it was all ready, and all he wanted it to be.

* * *

Blaine stumbled on the way to his third period class. Just one more to go, before lunch. He felt numb, and failed to see the concern in the faces around him, just as he failed to see the hand that reached out to steady him before he could crash against the teacher's large desk.

"Dude! You all right? You almost took a header there, man."

Blaine lifted his eyes to see Finn's concerned expression. "Finn."

"Yeah. You're lucky I was here, dude."

"Why are you?" Blaine felt like the simplest conversation was like trying to solve a differential equation just then.

Finn brightened, and stood, straightening them both up. "You've got a pass to leave this class; you're coming with me." The teacher joined them then.

"What pass? Care to explain, Mr. Hudson?" She arched an eyebrow at him. She knew he wasn't a real faculty member, but she did appreciate the work he was putting in for both the Glee club and the play.

"Figgins' office; I think it's about a scholarship or something," he mumbled.

Ms. Rawling smiled; Finn hadn't ever been a good liar, but she didn't object. Her prize student didn't look like he'd get anything out of this lesson, and she wasn't about to call him on it. "All right. Check the homework web site later, Blaine, but there won't be any new assignment tonight." Then she turned her attention to the rest of the class.

Blaine stumbled after Finn, somewhat curious. "Scholarship? I don't think I even applied..."

Finn stared at him, and Blaine got it, without further explanation, and contented himself with following Kurt's brother to the choir room. An A/V Department cart was there, with a large monitor on it, as well as an assortment of input devices and cables. Finn closed the door behind them.

"Blaine, dude, just sit. And watch."

He did as he was told, and Finn busied himself, connecting his phone to the monitor, and turned it on. He dimmed the lights, and hit play.

Blaine blinked, then immediately sat up straight and felt completely awake, taking in the familiar sight of the Hudmel's back yard. Kurt was standing there in the autumn light, mostly bare trees all around, and quiet music started. Then the focus moved to his face and upper body, as Kurt began to sing, his eyes, his entire face really, so tired looking, but so earnest and full of intensity at the same time.

_ I'm sorry for everything I said_

_ And for everything I forgot to say, too_

_ When things get so complicated,_

_ I stumble, at best muddle through._

Blaine was transfixed; how did Kurt look so beautiful, even through the strain he could clearly see? His voice, that he'd been so starved for, suddenly there, singing – _to him_ – so beautifully, and he felt a different piece of his heart break watching, barely breathing. Kurt continued singing.

_I wish that our lives could be simple_

_ I don't want the world, only you_

And here he watched as those beautiful glasz eyes filled with tears, and a few started to trickle down his pale face.

_ Oh, I wish I could tell you this face to face_

_ But there's never the time, never the place_

His voice became quiet, but still steady, and Kurt's face came in closer, almost filling the screen, as he finished the song.

_So this letter will have to do_

_ I love you._

Blaine bolted to his feet, crossing the room to where Finn had retreated, to give him some privacy, and Blaine grabbed his shoulders as he turned his tear stained face up to him, demanding to know. "Finn! I've got to see him!"

Minutes later, Finn watched as Blaine flung himself out of the car and raced up the steps to his house, momentarily frustrated by the door (which apparently Kurt had neglected to leave unlocked) and joined him, unlocking the door so Blaine could push by him, and he saw it then.

Kurt was standing in the kitchen, light from outside silhouetting him, and he turned at the noise, meeting Blaine in a rush for them to hold each other. He turned away, determined to just go watch a game or something, and was surprised to see Sebastian, sprawled but awake on his couch. The boy just lifted his brows as they took in the sight in the next room, and they shared a smile as Sebastian sat up and made room for Finn.

Kurt guided Blaine bodily to the enclosed back porch a few steps away, and closed the door. He held Blaine, who was sobbing now and clinging tight to him, words tumbling out fast.

"I can't believe you're here, God, I love you much, oh God, oh God, you really are here, and I can't believe it, you still love me -"

Kurt was shaking with sobs now too, kissing Blaine's face, hair, back to his face, and stopped him. "Blaine, I never stopped loving you -"

"Kurt, I thought you'd never talk to me again, I am so so sorry for all -"

"Blaine. Blaine, honey, stop," he murmured. "I love you, so much. Breathe. Shh."

It took many minutes before Blaine could properly breathe, to be able to speak. Kurt looked at him; his beautiful boyfriend was such a mess, exhausted, and looked on the edge of collapse. Holding him, even through their sweaters, he could tell he wasn't the only one who'd lost weight, though it seemed Blaine had been much more affected there, his hip bones more prominent than they had ever been, his jeans, he noticed, lying a little too loosely on his body. The change he saw before him worried him, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt, holding the broken boy.

Kurt silently thanked Carole, finding a box of tissues nearby, and held Blaine as they both felt their breathing calm down. He kissed away the tears that were finally starting to slow, and placed a chaste kiss, full of tenderness, on Blaine's trembling lips. There would be time for passion, but now he knew they both needed healing and reassurance.

"Why? Why did you apologize to me?" Blaine's voice was breathy, soft, and his eyes full of pain.

"For pushing you away, for not letting you tell me what you wanted to tell me. For making you think I'd forgotten you. Blaine, I could never forget you –"

"That's no excuse! What I did was so wrong, there's no way you should be -"

"No." Kurt silenced him, a gentle finger placed to his love's lips. "We're going to do this in order. I've had time to think about this." He sighed. "Blaine, I think you did the hardest thing in the world, for you, when you sent me to New York to live out my dream." The fresh tears and nod confirmed this, as he watched Blaine's face carefully. "But you did it, because you loved me enough to want that for me, no matter what it did to you." He drew in a careful breath. "But you maybe didn't know how hard it would be, and I know you didn't count on what happened next. No, Blaine," he stopped him before he could interrupt, "you've got to let me say it. Then I'll listen to you." Blaine nodded, and held both of Kurt's hands.

"I got so sucked into it all – and the internship, the apartment with Rachel, it all came together so fast. And I was so excited about telling you about it that I didn't even hear it, when you wanted to tell me about what was going on in your life." He hung his head, regretting this thoroughly. "I got busy with work, and I canceled Skype dates, and I couldn't take your calls. I don't want to think about how little I texted you back." His own tears came back now, but he went on. "Damn it, I was a fucking bad boyfriend, that's what I was, and I didn't even _know_ it at the time! How fucked up is that!"

Blaine reached out, reflexively, to smooth Kurt's brow, to caress his hair. "Not as bad as _your_ bad boyfriend -"

"No, Blaine, I have to say it. You were miserable, and I told myself you were fine. I'd take your smiles, when I told you a quick 'love you!' before logging off, and I didn't look behind them. I kept telling myself it'd get better, you know, when I was settled into my job more, but the pace never let up at all. When you," his voice broke, and he stumbled on his words, " when you … sang to me, at Callbacks, it was like for the very first time I got it, that you weren't okay. How could I have missed it that long?"

He allowed himself to be comforted, as Blaine held him and rocked him in his arms. Blaine knew Kurt meant it, that he was taking on blame, and that at that moment was reliving the brokenness that followed.

"I didn't tell you clearly enough, Kurt, I didn't yell at you to pay attention, get Rachel out of the room, and let me _talk_ to you. I told you I missed you, but not how much, not how lonely I was – I didn't want to sound as pathetic as I felt. I didn't know how to cope, and I couldn't make you see how I felt, not without being there in person, but it just kept getting worse. And then, I did the stupidest thing ever," he broke away, and stood, shaking, facing the yard, holding his arms around himself before burying his face in his hands.

"Blaine. We just have to get it out. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than what I imagined, what my angry mind accused you of, when I wouldn't answer you at all, not even to let you apologize, not even to yell at you." He stood up, resolution on his face, and held him from behind, rocking him slightly. "I know now, that even when I was angriest, I never stopped loving you. Remember that. And I know now that, whatever it was, I don't care. I love you, I want you back. Go ahead and get it out, Blaine, so we can get past this." He felt Blaine nod, and swallow a few times.

It was easier, Blaine thought, not having to see his face, but he was so grateful that Kurt held him as he looked out onto the almost bare trees, twigs dancing in the breeze. "Eli." He closed his eyes, then opened them, gazing down at Kurt's hands, crossed over his own chest, and brought his own hands up to entwine their fingers. "It was after I'd gotten Student Council President, and you didn't even know until the next day, and even then it was just a quick text. It had hit me, at the party after the election, that I was doing all this stuff, and I didn't feel any less hollow. I didn't care about any of it, and maybe you didn't either. My dumb high school life that even I didn't care about, how could it interest you? Eli is a senior too, at another high school a couple towns over. He commiserated with me, seemed happy to obsess about crappy high school life, and then, he got flirty."

Kurt stiffened. He'd resolved before he left New York that they had to do this, that Blaine had tried to tell him about this in New York all that time ago, and he had refused to hear it. It didn't make it easy to hear, but he nudged Blaine's shoulder, encouraging him to go on.

"I … I was so lonesome, Kurt. I know that doesn't excuse it. I sent you texts, and maybe got one back for every three I sent. And then Eli, he just sent me lots of them, mostly joking around, like the Warblers almost. He got it, the stupid stuff about high school, how absurd it could be. And then, he started to … well, let me know he liked me."

Blaine moved his body to maybe twist to see Kurt's face, but Kurt held him firm, not ready for this yet. Blaine sighed. "At first, I just told him about you, that I was taken, you know, so he'd stop flirting but maybe would still joke around with me. He told me later, he looked up my old Warblers performances, as well as New Directions, and had a crush on me. He didn't come out and tell me that though. Not then, he just kidded, called me sexy, and encouraged me to open up to him about what was bothering me. Kurt, I don't know if I can do this!"

Kurt loosened his grip, and they faced each other. Now, he thought, this is the time. He lifted Blaine's chin, brought them even closer, and closed his eyes as he started to kiss him. Blaine seemed startled by this, but quickly responded, and Kurt's kisses got harder, more insistent, as his tongue licked Blaine's lower lips, and Blaine opened his mouth immediately, granting him access, and feeling the gentle strokes as Kurt claimed him. Too soon, Kurt pulled away, and looked into Blaine's eyes as their foreheads rested against each other.

"You can. I love you. Are you still mine?"

Blaine's breath hitched. "I don't know how you still love me, but yes, I want that more than anything."

"Just get it out. It's all right." Blaine looked so uneasy then, and he lifted his fingers to brush a stray curl aside. "Is it easier, that way?" They both knew what he meant, having Blaine face away.

"Yes," he whispered back, hating to admit it.

"All right." He kissed him swiftly once more, and turned him back to the position they'd had before. "Go on."

**A/N: Sorry to leave them there, but you can see where this is going. Breathe. Thoughts? Love? Hate? **

**The song, by the way, really is that short, and it is the beautiful Radames' Letter, from the rock opera Aida by Elton John and Tim Rice. Do listen to it.**

**I'd love to hear from you, and thank you for reading.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I still don't own Glee, or any songs, products, etc. you recognize...**

"I went to Eli's house. I don't know what I was thinking. No," he said, looking away into the yard, where the wind picked up a little. "That's not true. I was thinking I'd get to hang with this guy who was really friendly and attentive, and that maybe it would feel good." He paused, and Kurt held him harder for a moment, urging him to finish.

"We had some iced tea and we watched some random videos on his laptop in his living room, sitting close. He kept finding these ridiculous ones that made me laugh, and it was all pretty tame. But he got closer and closer to me, and then he played this video of a momma cat licking a puppy and putting it to sleep in with her kittens, and it was cute, and he started to … well, rub my back, and he kissed my neck. The video stopped; he didn't, and he got in back of me and then he got up, and told me I needed a proper back rub. He got some ointment kind of stuff, and he pushed my shirt up, and rubbed it into my chest – he said it would just relax me."

Blaine remembered back to that visit, and felt queasy all over again. The physical memory was still so sharp. "I didn't know, but I asked him what that was, because I started to feel kind of weird. I was lightheaded, and he told me to lie down and brought me to his bed. Then he started kissing me, and I felt confused. My head started to pound. For a second, I let him, but then I just wanted to go. I knew I'd made a huge mistake. But, I didn't feel right; I felt weak. And he got more aggressive, and started pressing into me, and reached for my zipper. I broke away, and I begged him to stop, told him I felt like I was going to be sick."

Kurt's mind raced. What the hell was Blaine describing? He tried to figure it out, thinking he maybe did know, but upset at what he was hearing. He kissed Blaine's hair, and squeezed his hands to reassure him. He waited for Blaine to finish.

"He left, and got me a glass of water. I sat up, and I almost passed out, but I fought it. Drinking the water seemed to help, so I asked for some more, and he got it. He told me he was happy I was looking better, and then he started again, kissing me and grabbing me, and pushing against me, before I pushed him back and told him no, I couldn't do it, and I got out of there. I puked in the bushes outside his house and made it to my car. I raced home and showered, and threw up some more. God, I was so stupid, Kurt."

His voice sounded so bleak, Kurt thought. Kurt was glad now that Blaine was facing away from him, for a new reason, as his face was dark with fury, at Eli, who had put Blaine in jeopardy, and had practically date-raped him. "Did anything happen after that, with him?"

"No. Nothing. I blocked him from facebook and my phone as soon as I got out of the shower. And Sebastian found me, the next day, at the Lima Bean. That's when he sent me to New York, to see you."

Kurt was amazed. Of course, he'd heard about this when Sebastian showed him his text history, but hearing it now from Blaine was still a shock. "You wanted to … confess this? Blaine, why?"

"Because I felt so guilty, and dirty, and … sad. I just wanted you to know that I was sorry, that I'd never do anything like that again, that I never should have let him flirt with me that way … oh, God, I'm so sorry Kurt."

Kurt gently turned him around, and held his face in his hands. Blaine gazed at the face he loved so much, and found love there, and worry. "Blaine, I'm mad that you put yourself in so much danger, and I was angry that you'd cheated. Though, if you'd gotten the chance to tell me this, back then, it would have been so much better for both of us." He kissed Blaine's forehead, and groaned to think that again, his father was right. His father. It came to him, and the anger returned.

Blaine saw the change in Kurt's face, and withdrew a little, wondering what he was thinking.

"Honey, you put yourself in so much danger, and then when you told me about your 'hook-up' – oh, Blaine, could you have _done_ a more thorough job screwing yourself over?"

"But … but I flirted with him, and I let him kiss me, and then, in his bed -"

"He tried to practically rape you. I can understand you feeling guilty for flirting back, and going to his house and … well, some of what you did."

"Why did you say date rape?" Blaine was genuinely confused here, but Kurt had been clear.

"Wait here." And Kurt left. He searched the cabinet in his father's bathroom until he found it, feeling queasy about his suspicion. He took it to the kitchen, and carefully squeezed some of the ointment onto a piece of plastic wrap, being careful not to touch it. He let himself back onto the porch, and showed the yellowish crème to Blaine. "Did you ever see it, Blaine? Did it look like this?"

Kurt studied Blaine's face, not needing an answer, as Blaine suddenly looked pale and panicked, and also like the sight and smell of it made him sick. "Yes. I think so. What the hell?"

Kurt pulled Blaine to sit beside him on the overstuffed loveseat. "It's a cardiac medicine, Blaine. Dad has it for chest pain, but he hasn't had to use it since he recovered. It helps with chest pain, but it also drops your blood pressure and heart rate. God, Blaine, he could have killed you! Blaine, are you all right?"

Blaine had dropped his head into his hands, as if he were reliving the effects of the drug. "It makes sense now. Eli wore a glove on his hand when he put it on, he said he was just sensitive to it, not to worry."

"Blaine, what am I gonna do with you?" He pulled him close, and peppered his cheeks and jawline with kisses as Blaine murmured happy noises while he did. Kurt knew then what he should have known sooner, that he'd missed Blaine so much it hurt to breathe, and the adorable noises his communicative lover made when he was happy, the way his voice thrummed against his lips as he kissed his throat, how could he have forgotten how much he loved this?

* * *

Finn waited a good half hour after Kurt returned to the porch, wanting to reassure himself that all was well. Sebastian had finally crashed while they caught a rebroadcast of a Buccaneers game, and no sound was coming from upstairs, which probably meant Nick and Jeff had conked out too. He smiled broadly, as Kurt drew back from kissing Blaine, who looked more like himself than he had in weeks, though they both looked tired.

"It's all right, Finn," Kurt reassured him. He smiled at his boyfriend, happy for all they'd talked their way through, his eyes drinking in the sight of him, and Blaine returned his gaze with equal steadiness.

"Cool. Blaine, you're officially helping me with last minute prop repair, if anyone asks; so you don't have to go back until makeup call." Finn was glad he'd pulled that off, and hoped Blaine would get some rest.

Kurt glanced at his brother, mouthing a 'thank you' and standing, pulling Blaine to stand beside him. "Bed. Now."

Finn smirked, thinking that for once Burt wouldn't object at all, as Blaine meekly followed Kurt up to his room. He looked dead on his feet, and he was pretty sure Kurt would try to make him sleep.

As it turned out, Finn was mostly right. Blaine hadn't been able to resist pulling Kurt in for more kisses and caresses, which Kurt had been happy to return. But the accumulated fatigue was now undeniable and Kurt pulled Blaine into one more kiss before sternly commanding him, "you're going to nap now. Shh, I'm not going anywhere, but I'm not letting you up on stage without making you get some rest. Come here." And he pulled Blaine's head onto his chest, and Blaine wrapped his arms around him gratefully.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Blaine sang to him.

Kurt leaned forward, and planted a gentle kiss on his nose. "Cheeseball."

"You love it." And Blaine was interrupted from speaking further, taken over by an enormous yawn.

"I do." He sighed. "Now, go to sleep. I love you."

* * *

Burt and Carole came home to a note taped to the door, and Burt was glad Finn had had the presence of mind to warn him. Sure enough, they shared a grin and made their way into the living room, where an unfamiliar teen lay sprawled on the sectional. Going upstairs, two Dalton boys Burt recognized were snuggled together on Finn's bed, and they stopped and stared at Kurt's doorway. These boys were out too, and Kurt was cradling Blaine in his arms, a gentle smile on his lips. Burt wasn't sure how Blaine was even managing to breathe, his face buried against his son's chest. He shared a smile with his wife, and they made their way into the kitchen as quietly as they could.

Soon after, the boy from the living room wandered into the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee had finished brewing.

"Hey, son, don't be shy, come on in. I'm Burt, Kurt's dad, and this is my wife Carole."

"Hello, Mr. Hummel -"

"Call me Burt, kid."

"Um, Burt. I'm Sebastian Smythe. Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Dalton boy, eh?" Burt laughed, observing how the tired looking teen had straightened up when he introduced himself, used his full name, and sounded so formal.

"I am." He smiled his most charming smile at them both.

"Do you like coffee, dear, or maybe something else to drink?" Carole inquired, and she checked on something that smelled wonderful, bubbling on the back burner of the stove.

"Coffee would be perfect. Thanks."

Nick and Jeff came down to join them soon after. "Mr. and Mrs. Hummel! So nice to see you!" Nick called out happily. Jeff added a much quieter, "hi. We just woke up," and went to give Carole a hug. "Something smells great, Mrs. H."

"Well, we need to have an early dinner, we've got to feed Blaine and drop him off to get ready for the play."

"Boys," and here Burt addressed them all, "Finn told me about what you did. Thank you, so much. I couldn't get my son to listen to his old man's advice," he chuckled, "but maybe I should've just kidnapped him from New York, like you guys did."

"We'll remind him to listen to you next time," Nick added, with a cheeky smile.

Sebastian sat back and watched, hoping some day to feel this at home with Kurt's family. Or any family, for that matter. Burt and Carole were so comfortable to be with, and he watched them bustle around (Carole, refusing any help in finishing their simple supper), and Nick and Jeff clearly felt completely relaxed with them.

"Excuse me, but I'm gonna go wake them so they can eat," Burt excused himself. He stole a glance back at Carole, who was happily getting ready to feed the gang of teens.

Burt stopped again at Kurt's open doorway, and saw that Kurt was now awake, and smiling at him. Blaine was still, to all appearances, as dead to the world as ever. "Hey, dad," he quietly greeted his father.

"Better feed him before we send him off to perform, don't you think?"

"Um hmm." He kissed Blaine's messy curls, and whispered to him. "Blaine? Blaine? Wake up, sweetie."

Blaine nestled further into his side. He felt like he hadn't slept in forever, and he grabbed his pillow more fiercely, wanting to stay in this happy dream forever, a dream where Kurt loved him, where his heart didn't feel like lead. "Blaine, wake up. Don't make me push you out of bed," Kurt teased him.

He did wake up then, realizing that his pillow really was _him_. Kurt, who really was here, in his arms, and smiling at him. "I'm awake?" he said, voice roughened by sleep.

"Now we both are." Burt had gone back downstairs to let Carole know they were coming, and to give them a moment. "Sleepy?"

"Maybe. A little." And he yawned and stretched, his face breaking into a huge grin. "You're so beautiful."

Kurt chuckled, and kissed his curls yet again, before propelling him to sit up with a gentle shove. "C'mon. I smell Carole's amazing stew, and we need to feed you before I take you back to McKinley for your opening night."

"But I don't want to let you go."

Kurt laughed at the genuinely pouty look Blaine gave him, followed by a full-on puppy eyes assault. "Five more minutes?"

* * *

Kurt delivered Blaine to Tina, with no time to spare. No one in the cast had to ask, as Kurt never took his eyes off Blaine, and only released him from body contact when he was finally shooed away by Artie, as the house lights blinked to alert the audience to be seated.

* * *

Finn watched from the side, happy with the performances so far. Sure, they'd had a few missteps here and there, but looking at the audience, he didn't think they'd notice. Well, maybe they hadn't fooled Kurt, but he thought they looked good. Ryder was a little tentative on some of his lines, but made up for it with swagger, and Marley sounded great as his Sandy. He couldn't help but picture a tiny brunette singing those lines instead, and missed her, for the millionth time.

* * *

The house lights came back up, and the Teen Angel scene started. Finn grinned now; Blaine had always sounded great on this; that was a given. But he was an angel transformed, tonight: dancing his moves smoothly, and making contact and flirting with Sugar and the audience, giving a swoon-worthy performance worthy of a teen idol. He could just see Kurt, since he'd made sure his family had great seats, with Nick, Jeff, and Sebastian seated a couple of rows away from them. Kurt was grinning the whole time, his eyes shining, as he took in Blaine's performance. Blaine caught Kurt's eye, and, if it were possible, turned on the charm even more, finishing the song with confidence and style.

Blaine ascended the white stairs, as the girls crossed in front of him, in their hilariously over the top rollers on their heads. He sang his last line reluctantly, looking for all the world like a Teen Angel wishing to be earthbound. Sugar sighed, not really having to act, and winked at him (which the audience couldn't see, as her back was to them). Blaine finished and walked back stage, to make room for the coming scene change.

* * *

"All right, you know it had to happen, it's time for my toast." And Sebastian rose to his full height.

Blaine grinned at Kurt, and reached over to pull him closer, and whispered a soft "Courage" into his soon-to-be-husband's ear. Kurt smirked at him, mouthing 'really, Blaine?' and they both leaned back in their chairs.

"When these idiots" he let the laughter in the room die down a bit, "told me they were going to get married, that didn't surprise me. When they told me when, well," and he smirked at the happy couple fondly, "I wondered what the rush was all about. But then I remembered..." and he paused for effect. "I'm spending my senior year in France. I won't be here to make them behave! Or listen to reason. I mean, someone's got to be in charge while I'm away." The room was full of polite laughter at this.

He faced the room, full of the people Kurt and Blaine loved the most, as they enjoyed their post wedding rehearsal dinner. Cooper was there, making sure his mother felt included, and sure that his father didn't do or say anything to upset his brother. The Warblers needed a table and a half, and everyone from New Directions had made it, somehow. Isabelle was easy to spot, shining in her gold accented outfit like a tiny star, and Rachel was at Finn's side, at Kurt's family's table. Both boys, now men, were just twenty one, so were among the first of their group to get married.

Sebastian addressed the room, and then the couple, with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Marriage is a huge commitment; weathering the storms of life? Sometimes it takes a village. Or maybe just three Warblers," and he grinned evilly at the couple, and then Burt. "Whatever. But, I'm happy, knowing I can spend a year in France in peace, knowing that all of you are a part of this covenant too: that you are standing up with them, and bear witness."

He stepped down from the podium, and crossed the room to stand beside them. "You are made for each other, and I wish you all the best. And, if necessary, I will haul ass back from Paris, if you ever need to be reminded of that fact. To Kurt and Blaine!"

Kurt got up and held Sebastian in a tight hug, joined by Blaine. His quiet message was for him alone. "I will never be able to thank you enough. Who'd of thought you'd be teen angel material, 'Bastian?" Blaine nodded happily, tears springing to his eyes, not trusting his voice at all.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up, highly amused. Over the happy toasting noises in the room, he said to them both, a playful smirk on his face, eyes sparkling, "maybe fairy godfather."

**A/N: Well, Ryan has revealed that Kurt will be 21 when he marries … **

**I hope you've enjoyed this story. I hope you don't feel that I let Blaine off too easily; there is, after all, growth after this, and they learn each other's limitations and weaknesses, and how to do what great couples do: complete each other, as each loves and protects the other, sharing their own form of strength, and helping their lover where they are weak.**

**I'd love to hear from you, as you know. I consider this story complete, but am not officially closing it today (too soon?).**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing.**


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